


Resurrection

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Series: The Crimson Codex [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-01
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book 1 of 'The Crimson Codex'. 1997. A vampire Buffy awakens to a new world where she must struggle against her former Watcher and friends, the very society she is now a part of, and her conflicted feelings about her Sire and his mate...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_1997…_

“Do we really need weapons for this?” Buffy asked sarcastically.

With a lascivious grin, Spike prowled closer. “I just like ‘em,” he retorted in his cocksure British accent. “They make me feel all manly…” He dropped the pipe. He also dropped his hand, allowing it to slide sensuously down his muscled chest, moving ever downward until his thumb hooked into the waistband of his jeans.

Buffy gulped as her traitorous eyes followed his hand’s motion and then continued downward to the natural conclusion of his hand’s journey. Her own weapon clattered to the ground beside her, even as her eyes widened at the obvious – and _large_ – sign of his arousal. Shaking herself back into the fighting mindset once more, her hazel eyes met his yellowed ones.

The growing smirk on his face indicated all too clearly that he knew she’d caught sight of his hardness and was pleased by her reaction. “Tell you what,” he said casually, slinking towards her with the deadly grace of a panther, “I’ll make this easy. As a personal favor from me to you. Won’t hurt a bit.”

He was so close now, and the hidden implications had her blood burning for him. But the more immediate struggle had a fiery rage building up within her as well. As usual, anger won out. “No, Spike,” she retorted with a nasty grin of her own, “it’s going to hurt a lot.” With that, her fist struck out to hit him squarely across the jaw.

His head snapped back in response before he let out a delighted whoop of laughter and struck right back. Buffy wheeled with the force of the blow, but she countered instinctively with a high-kick. He blocked, and she spun and hit this time, an exclamation of triumph escaping her lips.

Spike was back on his feet in an instant, avoiding the sharp hell of her boot, and three well-placed kicks to her head had her backed up against the wall. Buffy’s toe struck upwards between his legs as hard as she could, but he leapt back in time to avoid the painful blow.

In the split-second of reprieve given her, Buffy wiped the trickle of blood from the edge of her mouth. Her opponent mirrored her action, and for an instant she felt the rather childish impulse to insist that she’d made him bleed first. The odd thing was that, for the merest fraction of a second, she could’ve sworn that a similar juvenile instinct had overtaken Spike.

Both shook the moment off, and Spike ran at her with a roar, fists flying. Buffy dodged to the side at the last possible second, and his punch impacted with the wall instead of her head, breaking clean through the plaster. For one second, Spike’s arm was trapped, and Buffy used it to the best of her abilities, aiming swift kicks and his kidneys and knees, making him buckle against the wall.

A deep growl emitted from his chest at that, and he ripped his arm free. The wall shook with his strength, and a long crack split it. Eyes flashing with yellow fury now, Spike swung out wildly at her.

Buffy leapt back, keeping her distance while his rage gave him the added advantage. It wasn’t an easy task, however. It seemed as though berserker instincts had taken over him, and her reflexes weren’t enough to match his pace. Blocks came just a second too late, and each of his hits glanced painfully into her, each impact slowing her down just a little bit more.

A final spinning kick knocked her backwards, and she fell hard to the ground. White sparks of pain flashed behind her eyelids when she hit her head, and for a moment blackness threatened to overcome her before she fought it off.

She didn’t have any time to react before Spike was atop her, though, his hand holding her neck down as he straddled her waist. Buffy bucked up against him, trying to shake him off twice, but she merely got a return grind and that wicked smirk of his in response.

“You like, pet?” he taunted, rubbing his hardness pointedly against her before he leaned in for the kill…

Buffy’s hand reached out wildly as his fangs closed in…and landed squarely on the lead pipe that had been dropped earlier. With a cry of triumph, she bashed the bar into the side of his head, stunning him for long enough to throw him off and rise to her feet.

“Actually,” she quipped, flipping her hair back over her shoulder, “I’m the kinda girl that likes being on top.” She spotted her fallen stake in the wreckage and dove for him, wielding it with deadly accuracy.

Those lightning-quick reflexes saved him again, though, and he rolled out of the way of the death strike. A delighted bark of laughter escaped his lips, and he panted heavily now, despite the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen. “Oh, ‘ll bet you do…” he purred suggestively, looking her up and down in a possessive manner.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed.

Slowly, the two of them rose to their feet once more, eyes never leaving the other as they prepared to face off once more.

“It hurting yet?” Buffy taunted, blocking his first lunge.

He chuckled and rolled his tongue up beneath his front teeth. “You hurt me so good, baby,” he ribbed her.

She lunged with her stake, causing him to leap backwards. “And soon I’ll hurt you _dead_ ,” she countered flippantly, aiming a spinning kick at his chest.

He retreated again, backing himself up against the wall once more. “Mmm…you’re _good_ , luv…” The inflection he put on the words made they statement seem downright scandalous. “Can’t wait to get my sweet taste…”

“As—” Buffy was cut off in mid-syllable as he ripped the exposed beam from the wall behind him and swung it at her, knocking the stake from her hands and sending her back down to the ground with a cry of pain. The breath knocked out of her lungs at the force of the impact, and for one moment she was completely trapped as Spike closed in. She saw her life flash before her eyes then, and knew that this was it…

Fangs clenched in a feral snarl, he raised the beam for the killing blow…

And then a face popped into his mind. Wide, dark mooneyes, gaunt cheeks, skin tinged blue with illness. Just waiting for the proper meal to make her whole again…

The beam struck Buffy in the head, knocking her completely out.

And Spike breathed heavily three times, fully contemplating the danger of his latest spur-of-the-moment plan. It was probably crazy. It would probably get him killed. But then he was known for doing crazy things that would get him killed.

He paused for one moment, eyeing the stake just beside her right hand and feeling anxiety course through his body, before he said ‘to hell with it’ and cautiously leaned in to pick up the slayer’s (hopefully) unconscious form.

He tensed for one moment when he slipped his arm around her back and lifted, but it was just her head lolling against his shoulder. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and lifted her up in his arms.

“Aren’t you a tiny, li’l thing…” he murmured, slightly surprised when he realized just how small she really was. “Hope you’ve got enough blood in you for my dark princess.” But Dru had been eating less and less lately, so it probably wouldn’t be a problem. But he tried not to dwell on that fact too often.

Buffy’s unconscious form didn’t respond, of course.

And, with that, Spike slipped out into the night, escaping through the shattered window…

* * *

Drusilla tisked lightly at the chanting upstairs. Silly demons that didn’t even realize that the party was just now ending. With that certain knowledge came one of the innumerable pains to her temple that she’d felt almost constantly since that mob in Prague had gotten its hands on her.

With a little whimper, she staggered back to the bed and rested her aching head on the pillow, body curled up to ward off the unnatural chill that so frequently took over her limbs these days. Her stomach was feeling unsettled now after tasting that junky girl from earlier, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, forcing back the urge to vomit.

Now, Drusilla – contrary to whatever airs she might put on – wasn’t a particularly weak or helpless vampire. She had struggled on her own in dozens of occasions during her 136 years of unlife. That didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy having a mate to pamper her. But this completely vulnerable feeling, like she just wanted to curl up and die to make the pain stop…

 _I want my Spike._

It was unusual for the depths of her insanity and that shard of intelligence that not even Angelus had fully destroyed to come together like this, but that one needy thought dominated all else at the moment.

Almost in response, she heard a scratching at the window.

The moment was actually frightening. She hadn’t sensed the newcomer’s approach either with her physical senses or her second-sight. It was as though she were doubly blind all of a sudden, her limbs too weary to even turn over to see the intruder. Dru rarely felt fear, but for one instant…

“Pet?”

A wave of relief flooded her body. “William…” she whimpered piteously.

The sound of a body dropping to the bed behind her. No, two. The clanking of chains. Apparently, Spike had brought home another treat.

“Got you some take-out, my sweet nightshade,” he cooed softly, coming over to the other side of the bed to brush her hair back from her face. “You feelin’ worse?” Deep concern etched upon his perpetually youthful features for an instant.

Drusilla shut her eyes and nodded. There was a certain peace to knowing that he was back, that if she needed anything all she had to do was ask.

Spike shut his eyes for a second and clenched his jaw. If he hadn’t already ripped those witches in two that had cursed her with this malady, he’d do so again in a heartbeat. And all the men that had beaten her down while she was helpless to fight back…

“Brought you the finest treat of all tonight,” he countered in a hopeful tone. “Have a taste. It’ll make you feel right as rain again.”

Drusilla shook her head lightly, afraid to open her mouth because the bile and vomit were swelling up within her again now. But then her senses seemed to clear, and she smelled the delicious aroma for the first time. Almost instantly her nausea vanished. “Slayer?” she whispered in delighted awe, finding the energy to roll over and look at the petite, unconscious blonde chained up beside her on the bed.

“Saved her special for you, luv,” he assured her with a slightly shy grin. “A powerful one, too.”

Drusilla let out a girlish little giggle and caught hold of the lapel of his black leather duster, guiding him down to her. “My sweet Spike,” she cooed, brushing her lips up against his. “Such a good provider for mommy. So strong…”

He purred lightly against her, savoring the moment of affection. “All for you,” he assured her whole-heartedly.

But Drusilla’s attention had already turned back to the captured warrior beside her. Almost lovingly, she brushed back the slayer’s hair, studying her face intently. Her head cocked to one side curiously for a second, and her dark eyes unfocused.

“Give me strength, sister,” she finally whispered into Buffy’s ear before sinking her fangs in deep.

Spike watched his mate feed off of the slayer’s unconscious body. There was a brief moment of alarm when a gasp of pain escaped the blonde’s lips right at the moment of penetration, but then her head lolled back to the side as Drusilla took several deep drags from her throat.

He circled the bed again, watching his love feed with an enthusiasm she hadn’t shown in weeks. That fading flicker of hope burned to life within him again as he watched the blue fade from her arms, replaced by the usual porcelain luster of her skin. The bruises up and down her arms didn’t fade, but he would take whatever he could get for now. It really had been an impulsive and desperate decision to come to the Hellmouth in the first place, but it looked like it would pay off this time…

“Let me hold her for you,” he said, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the slayer, propping up her head against his arm so that Drusilla could feed more easily. The young woman’s cheeks were turning pale now, and there was just a flicker beneath her eyelids, one last brief struggle against impending death.

Drusilla noticed it as well, her yellowed eyes shinning with renewed vitality as she pulled back from her prey. “Slayer’s about to join our dance…” she sing-songed, demonic features fading to reveal a face slightly less gaunt than it had been just minutes before. “Doesn’t my William want to finish off his third?” she inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Had your fill?”

She stretched languorously in response, pale arms reaching high above her head in an exotic dance, the red silk of her dress sliding against rounded breasts and lean muscles. “Oh, yes,” she agreed, noting the hungry light in Spike’s eyes with a sly smile of contentment. “Bring…” she frowned for an instant, her eyes far away.

Spike recognized the signs of a precognitive trance instantly and caught her hand in his. “Dru?” he asked, concerned.

“Buffy?” Drusilla couldn’t help but giggle, then shrugged. “Bring Buffy into the fold, my pet,” she encouraged. A little sneer and growl was directed at the celebration above. “And then we have work to do…”

It took Spike a moment to register what Dru was asking of him. “You want me to turn her?” he finally exclaimed incredulously. “She’s the _slayer_! For Christ’s sake, Dru, have you gone mad?!”

Her dark eyes widened with hurt for an instant, and she let out a meek little whimper.

Inwardly, he slapped himself in the head at that same moment. “Didn’t mean it like that, my love,” he quickly assured her, catching her up in his arms and holding her close.

Drusilla tensed for an instant before allowing herself to lightly nuzzle his shoulder. It felt good to have him hold her like this again. Too often lately, he’d been overly cautious, like she was delicate and could break. Which, actually, wasn’t all that inaccurate of an assessment…

“But we don’t turn slayers, remember?” he continued to argue in that tender voice that was reserved solely for her. “Girl’s done her part and earned her death.”

“Or maybe,” she whispered huskily against his ear, teeth nibbling on it tantalizingly, “she’s earned another life…”

He frowned and pulled back, gripping her by the shoulders so that he could look into her eyes. “You seein’ something?” he asked hesitantly.

Between them, the slayer slowly stirred. “Spike…” She even managed to fill that groan with a cold threat.

Drusilla glanced back up at her mate, forcing away the swirling images that danced behind her eyes as she tried to focus on delivering this very important message. “Mommy won’t always be there for you,” she finally said in a dreamy voice. “Best to hatch the eggs before they’re laid…”

“Dru?” His face paled visibly. “You’re not dying on me. You hear?” He shook her gently.

She seemed to snap to at that and with a serpentine twist of her neck turned back to the awakening slayer. “Such a pretty golden childe,” she murmured. “Oh, the centuries will be filled with blood…”

“You see her?” Spike had gotten somewhat frighteningly adept at interpreting Dru’s visions over the past century. “You see her as one of us?”

Drusilla smiled at that, and it seemed as though something deep inside her had come to life. “Our childe…” she agreed, taking Spike’s hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “Give her life, William,” she requested softly.

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged it off. “To hell with custom,” he agreed with a cocky smirk before leaning in over the small blonde who had just blinked her eyes open.

“Spike?” Buffy’s vision swam, and her body felt uncharacteristically heavy. Like a weakness had taken over her limbs and… she felt the pain in her neck. She was bitten, then. Incapacitated by loss of blood.

His hand came up to cup her cheek, and inwardly she was disturbed at the one split second when her mind found his touch comforting. “Shh…Slayer. Don’t fight,” he soothing surprisingly gently, leaning in to brush his lips across the virgin side of her neck.

Of its own accord, her body shivered at the touch – whether from the cold or something else she refused to acknowledge.

“Promise still holds,” he assured her. “’ll make it quick. And I never break a promise to a lady…”

And then she felt his bones shift against the column of her throat, an instant before twin points of pain brought a gasp to her lips. And then he was inside her, hard and deep, pulling on her very essence.

She tried to struggle at the pain and then…

She’d been bitten before. And not just the other bite she’d received tonight while she was unconscious. The Master had been cold, rough, brutal. There had been no connection, just a bite rather like a blow before he’d left her for dead. But this…

Unbidden, a moan escaped her lips. God, what was wrong with her that this felt _good_? How could he…?

“Drink,” a female voice cooed in the background.

Buffy for the first time became aware that Spike’s bleeding wrist was pressed against her lips, inviting her to taste. The slayer’s instinct within her screamed in denial, but something even deeper – a young, carefree girl that had stripped of her life – was yielding.

White-hot streaks of pleasure ran through her body as Spike pulled on her veins, in sharp contrast to the cooling of her limbs. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips, but that wasn’t enough to quench this thirst. One brief thought – _Take something for yourself for once_ – and her lips parted, sucking hesitantly on his flesh at first, but then deeper, hungrily, desperate to drink him in.

Images flashed behind her eyes. Sweet, carnal pleasures that had been forbidden to her before now. The freedom she’d been denied ever since she’d been called as the slayer. And more than anything, she _felt_ Spike for the first time.

It was as though their beings were merged, each pulling on the other until they mixed so deeply – so _intimately_ – that they were undistinguishable for an instant. It was the moment when that strange pleasure that had been swelling through her body reached its climax. One final cry, and a flash of blinding white light, and suddenly she understood the meaning of it all: _Sire._

And then blackness overtook her.

Spike pulled back from Buffy’s body with a gasp, eyes flickering back to blue, his lips still coated with her blood. He’d turned his fair share of vampires in the past, but never had he felt a connection so _deep_ with any of them before. But this little slayer… It was like some core of their beings had just been waiting for them to join, like they were two halves of one shattered whole…

Drusilla leaned forward to lick the last of the slayer’s blood from her mate’s lips. He seemed not even to register her at first, still too awed by the power of what he’d just experienced. “Same thing happened to me when I turned you, my love,” she whispered, for one split-second sounding perfectly clear-minded and rational.

Spike snapped to at that, caught her against him, and…there was a knock at the door. “G’way,” he growled, vamping out once more.

A similar growl sounded from the other side of the door. “The Anointed One commands your presence,” the other vampire informed him.

Spike and Drusilla exchanged a look. “Not pretty,” Dru tisked, shaking her head.

Spike sighed and rose from the bed. “Not pretty at all,” he agreed, holding out his hand to her.

She took it gracefully and let him lift her to her feet, sidling up against him as they approached the door. Spike opened it just as the minion moved to knock again. Dru blocked his view of the bed as the two of them slipped outside.

“This had better be good,” Spike snarled as he closed the door, yellow flashing in his eyes for an instant at the younger vamp.

Drusilla hung on his arm and looked meek as the pair of them were led upstairs to the main audience chamber. Spike noted several of the minions he’d brought with him on the raid at the high-school were now present and quickly concluded that he’d been found out. 

“Suppose I’d better go and make nice,” Spike commented for the benefit of their guard.

Dru nodded, and the two of them exchanged a quick look before she fell off into the background, watching the proceedings from the shadows. Spike hoped he wouldn’t have to draw on her in a fight. He wasn’t sure just how recovered she was exactly.

“ _You_.” The vampire that hung sycophantically off the boy vampire Spike had privately dubbed ‘the Annoying One’ accused.

“Last I checked,” Spike countered with a cock-sure grin.

“You attacked the slayer tonight,” Collin commented in an eerily menacing voice for one who looked so much like a child.

“Uh…yeah,” Spike scratched the back of his neck, “see about that—”

“And the slayer escaped!” Sycophantic Lackey exclaimed in distaste. “You failed, and dozens were lost!”

Spike quirked an eyebrow. “The cheerleading section did that well, did they?” he chuckled to himself. And then he spotted two bodies that had been brought back to the lair, both smelling of the recently turned. Two females – a redhead and a darker girl – that he immediately recognized as his slayer’s chums. “Or not so well…” he amended.

“How do you excuse this failure?” Collin demanded with that pinched little squint of his face that Spike was coming to hate.

“I, uh…I offer penance,” he began, intentionally catching Dru’s eye where she circled the proceedings. Not like anyone that had known him for more than five minutes wouldn’t spot _that_ stall for what it was…

Sycophantic Lackey was outraged. But, then, he always seemed to be outraged. Spike was starting to hate him, too. “Penance?” he demanded. “You should lay down your life. Our numbers are depleted, the feast of St. Vigeous has been _ruined_ by your impatience.”

An inward roll of Spike’s eyes. Ah, the Honor of the Order at its stupidest… “I was rash,” he began, kneeling down in what looked to be a submissive gesture, “and if I had to do it all over again…”

Drusilla positioned herself behind the two guards that stood watch over the Heir. She waited with gleeful anticipation.

And Spike broke out into a sudden back of laughter. “Who am I kidding?” he rose violently, moving faster than Sycophantic Lackey could react. “I would do it exactly the same, only I’d do this…” He caught hold of Collin as slung him easily over his shoulder.

“No!” the boy-vampire cried out in sudden alarm.

“…First,” Spike concluded, throwing the Grand Annoying One into the metal cage that rested in the center of the room and slamming the door shut.

The two guards lunged only to find twin spikes of wood protruding clear through to the fronts of the chests. From behind them, Drusilla chuckled at their looks of startled horror. “Naughty, naughty,” she slurred in a seductive whisper as they crumpled to ash.

Sycophantic Lackey, at that moment, realized that he was the only one left to tow the party line. He lunged at Spike with a roar, vamping out. But Spike caught him by the throat, easily lifting his foe off the ground. The other vamp’s yellow eyes bugged out as the borrowed blood from three slayers coursed through Spike’s hands. A sickening crack, and Spike ripped his head clear off.

Approaching the pull chain for the cage as the dust settled around him, Spike sent a warning look to all those other minions present. They seemed too petrified to stop. Drusilla merely clapped in delight.

Spike yanked on the support chain, causing the cage to rise high above the floor. “From now on,” yank, “we’re gonna have a little less ritual,” one final tug, “and a little more fun around here.”

A hiss sounded throughout the room as the cage entered the shaft of sunlight peering in from overhead. Spike didn’t even bother to look as the Anointed One’s ashes fluttered to the ground.

He paused for one instant, not even bothering to look at his audience. “And, for the record, the slayer’s no longer a problem – like I promised. We picked up a third newcomer to our gang tonight.” He gestured to Willow and Cordelia’s bodies as the other two. “Think that evens it about out, don’t you?”

Several worried nods and one audible gulp responded. None dared make a move, even with Spike’s back turned. Which either meant they were real sheep, or smart. Spike could live with it either way.

“C’mon, pet,” he said, reaching out to Drusilla. “Let’s see what’s on the telly.”

She smiled and clasped her hand in his, gliding over the ashes of Sycophantic Lackey and sidling up against our mate. “Perhaps our darling girl will like the soaps, too,” she suggested as they returned to their rooms…

* * *

And it was less than three hours later that a newly whole demon awoke with a gasp, yellow eyes flashing and chains clanging against the headboard as unlife breathed through her body.

A deep-seated hunger seemed to permeate Buffy’s being, and one word slipped past her fangs and through her lips: “Spike…”


	2. Chapter 2

“Dru…” the word slipped from Spike’s lips like a fervent prayer as he pushed her back against the wall and began placing sensual love-bites up and down her neck.

“My Spike wants to play…” she smiled, purring when his teeth came over the mark that had first made her. He bit her hard, reaffirming that it was _his_ claim now, and she slipped her legs around his waist, rubbing up erotically against him.

He gasped in response, pressing his growing erection between her thighs, reveling that she had the strength and desire to play with him like this again. “Oh, you’re a _baaad_ girl,” he teased, pulling back to look into her dark, faux-innocent eyes.

“Daddy better punish me, then,” she joked back in a meek voice before leaning in to lick a line up his cheekbone to his ear. “Punish me good,” she whispered against him.

“Christ, Dru!” he gasped out as she ground against him again, fumbling desperately at his belt.

She giggled at his predicament until he finally freed himself and shoved her skirts aside, plunging home deep with in her. A delighted trilling sound emitted from her throat, and she threw her head back against the wall as he began to pump his cock in and out of her.

“That’s my naughty princess,” he moaned, burying his head in her shoulder as he began to move deeper and faster. God, it had been so long since he’d last had her. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, what with the state she’d gotten him in.

“Wicked, evil boy,” she agreed, nails clutched tight in the leather of his duster as she rode him as hard as she could. “Been saving that up for me all these weeks?” she teased him lightly, petting his hair lightly as he unfailingly found the pleasure spot deep within her and ground against it.

Spike practically sobbed in relief when her inner muscles clenched around him. Unable to hold out any longer, he exploded his pleasure into her cold body. “Dru…love you…” he gasped out raggedly, clutching her against him and showering her with kisses.

She purred in appreciation, catching his lips with hers and plundering them, her tongue delving deep inside his mouth to taste the rich blood that still lingered there.

With a moan against her lips, he hardened again inside her, but she pushed him away this time, rising up so that he fell free of her body. “Have to look in on our darling little girl,” she reminded him, straightening her skirts as she settled back onto her feet. With a coy smile, she gave his erection one last stroke before putting him back in his pants and zipping up. “And dirty, sneaky eyes are everywhere…” she added with a wink.

He looked down the hall at that and noticed for the first time the two fledglings standing there gawking. “Lookin’ at something?” he demanded with a snarl, vamping out.

The two quickly scrambled away to the sound of Drusilla’s delighted laughter. “So mean…”

“Just the way you like me,” he countered with a raised eyebrow, leaning in to kiss her again.

“Cruel, cruel Spike,” she agreed, grabbing hold of his hand and leading him down the rest of the hallway to their room with a laugh and a little pirouette. “It’s time my pet got his treat…” She opened the door to their room, and her eyes met with the golden ones of the vampiress chained to the bed for the first time.

Buffy rattled against the cuffs that held her, scrambling desperately to sate that _hunger_ that felt as though it were burning her alive…or, undead, as the case may be. Drusilla’s presence provoked an angry snarl as the demon within raged wildly, thrashing about on the bed.

“She’s awake.” Spike’s voice was soft, somewhat surprised.

“Strong for one so young,” Drusilla agreed with a sigh of disappointment. Apparently they weren’t going to get a good eight hours of carnal wickedness in, after all. “She needs you, William,” she commented, her voice unusually serious and straightforward.

With a sigh, he brushed his lips across her brow. “What about you, my love?” he inquired.

The corner of her lips quirked. “Two innocent little girls waiting to wake up back out there…” she commented in a dreamy voice, tilting her head back in the direction of their audience chamber.

“…Who have sires…”

“…That I accidentally staked,” Dru concluded. “Oops. How very _bad_ of me,” she said in the most falsely apologetic voice he’d ever heard.

A roar of laughter and he caught her up in a passionate embrace. “How I’ve missed you…” he whispered softly, his roughened accent falling away for one minute and more formal tones replacing it.

She smiled softly and stroked his cheek. “Give me the new puppies,” she encouraged, before clapping her hands together delightedly. “I take _verrry_ good care of my pets…”

“That you do,” Spike agreed with a soft smile. “You’re sure you’re up to—”

She cut him off with a nibble to his lips. “Don’t worry about mommy,” she assured him. “Help your childe.”

He raised a scarred eyebrow. Dru wasn’t usually so generous as that. If he was having fun, she pretty much always wanted in on it, and he was happy to oblige her. It surprised him to learn that she took the sire/childe bond so seriously, although he didn’t know why it should. She had tried with him as best she could, even if she had had to resort to leaving him to Angelus’ not-so-tender mercies when she was at her worst.

That was half of what he loved about her. She never ceased to surprise, even after they’d spent an entire century together. “Enjoy yourself,” he responded, pressing an overly formal kiss to the back of her hand. Before leaning in for a second time and licking sensuously up the blue vein there, desire-darkened eyes looking up into hers the entire time.

Buffy, who’d settled down briefly from her struggles, began anew at that. Something deep inside her recognized the vampire who had made her, and a certain knowledge filled her that he – and only he – could satisfy all her needs. The conscious mind within her would have been able to provide how, but only need and want controlled her now, and she couldn’t make such rational distinctions. She growled and flashed her fangs, legs kicking against the mattress.

Drusilla chuckled. “Try not to let her hurt you,” she teased, patting Spike on the cheek before she left, closing the door behind her.

Spike turned to the golden beauty tied to the bed…and gasped. It wasn’t that he hadn’t found other vampires attractive in his one hundred seventeen years of unlife. Quite the contrary. But they’d all seemed like fun, quick diversions from Dru. Good for a hard poke and not much else. Never had any stirred his blood deeply in that way that Dru alone could…until now.

“’Morning, luv,” he commented casually, sitting down on the edge of the bed and sliding over to his latest creation.

“S-Sp…” She was having trouble forming words, the painful burning in her was so great.

“Hungry?”

She hadn’t quite realized that that was it until now. “Yes!” she hissed in triumph.

“Rose early,” he informed her, unfastening the manacles that bound her. “Would’ve got here quicker if I’d known—” He was cut off abruptly the instant he fully released her when she caught him roughly by the shoulders and tackled him back onto the bed. There was a brief moment of panic when he feared – completely irrationally – that she was still the slayer and about to stake him.

A purr of contentment rumbled through Buffy’s chest as she finally covered her sire’s body, rubbing against his hardness enticingly. Her eyes were drawn naturally to the pale column of his throat – the font that had given her life – and she leaned in to cover the silent pulse-point there with her mouth, just sucking lightly for now without piercing the skin.

A groan escaped his lips at the feel of his childe’s wanton thrusting. He allowed himself one brief moment to enjoy her writhing atop him, before he let out a deep growl and rolled them back over, situating himself firmly between her spread thighs.

Buffy whimpered in response. She wanted – _needed_ – to taste him, yes, but her body seemed to want so much more right now, and it was impossible to remain clearheaded through the blinding blood lust. His hand caught one of her firm, round breasts and squeezed, making her pant with conflicting desires. The insides of her thighs were wet for him now, and if she didn’t…

With a triumphant roar, he vamped out, clawed fingers ripping at the fabric of her jeans and shredding it easily. She hissed it pleasure/pain when his violent actions nicked her sensitive inner thigh, causing a thin line of red blood to swell up there.

He’d yanked his jeans down to his knees now, and for an instant she got a good look at his hard, angry cock, still glistening from his mate’s juices. A brief protest stirred in the back of her mind at that, a greedy demon that wanted him to be _hers_ and hers alone…

But then he was pressing the slick opening to her womb, coating himself with a mixture of his sire and childe’s juices. The combined smell alone had his balls clenching, and his had to squeeze his eyes shut tight to keep from coming right then.

Three deep breaths calmed him down, and he looked at her then, one hand reaching up to brush back her golden hair while the other continued to possessively claim her breast. “So beautiful,” he murmured, fingers trailing up to stroke the line of her brow ridge.

The touch sent sparks of pleasure through her, and she gasped as she realized the new erogenous zone. Her own hands quickly rose to his own masculine ridges, stroking him with her knuckles and savoring his heady moan. “I’m a fast learner,” she whimpered breathlessly when his forehead fell to rest against hers.

“Good to know,” he agreed with a toothy grin before capturing her mouth in a kiss.

Their lips met with a fiery intensity, tongues knicking on fangs and bodies grinding until they were both almost warm again from the power of the friction between them. Buffy tasted his rich blood mixing with her own sweet taste, and the combination had her rubbing her dripping slit against the hard head of his erection desperately.

God, she just couldn’t take this! She needed more. Now. All of him, inside her, and—

An ear-piercing scream shattered the silence of the warehouse as he thrust hard inside her, ripping her virgin barrier apart brutally.

Buffy clawed madly at him, nails shredding his shirt and leaving thin red cuts down the smooth alabaster of his chest. The pain was intense, and she cried out from it…but, at the same time, she _craved_ it. The demon within her was screeching in delight at his violence. It didn’t matter whether she gave out or received pain – just that she felt it, that ultimate proof that she was still here, still _alive_ …

“Fuck, you’re tight, Slayer,” Spike groaned against her throat, beginning to thrust in and out of her at a mildly frenzied pace. “Wet, li’l quim just waiting for your Spike…”

She sighed at that and rolled her hips against his. The pain was fast fading now, and the pleasure was rising. Or maybe the pain was giving her pleasure. Or both. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was that he was inside of her, and it was simply… _wonderful_ …

“My Spike,” she repeated in a contented purr, “my sire…” One clawed hand caught the back of his neck, pulling his head down against her shoulder. Her tongue flicked out to taste his silent pulse-point before she struck hard, fangs burying deep inside him.

He collapsed against her in response, feeling her fangs tugging at his essence and letting his consciousness slide with the flow. She was still young – feeding for the first time – and he would give her whatever strength she needed in these first few shaky months. Because, having known her all of five minutes, he’d already gotten a pretty clear idea that this was a vampire he wanted to keep around…

Buffy felt him giving in to her, and the power that feeling gave her was intoxicating. Her demon senses felt his strength, and that he would give himself to her so completely… A little bit of her fell in love right there.

She rolled them over then, so that she could better feed, and began to experimentally move her hips, guiding him within her. His hands reached up to grasp her hips, and he helped her lead, showing her how to bring herself the most pleasure.

Her fangs pulled back from his neck, and her blood-soaked lips turned to his own as she felt a wave of something _wonderful_ rising within her. He seemed to sense it as well, catching her up in his arms, rolling them over again…and right off the edge of the bed. But neither of them noticed as they landed together on the hard floor, still grinding together, limbs tangling, lips tasting, and claws caressing.

With a gasp and a little squeal, Buffy felt him strike something…deep, primal, buried so far inside her that she’d never even sensed its existence before. She let out a keening, guttural cry as the wild ecstasy overcame her, and suddenly it was as if she had awoken into a brighter, more _real_ world. Colors were bolder, scents headier, tastes richer, touch so intense she could feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against her slick inner walls, time itself slowing down so that she could savor every second of watching his beautiful features as they twisted in agonized bliss above her.

And that was _before_ the orgasm hit her. She couldn’t tell if she was blinded by a white light or fading into a black void. The loss of control was terrifying…and liberating all at once. For one moment, she was outside her body, in a place with no rules, no limits, and all she could feel besides the endless ecstasy was that Spike was there with her. And somehow that knowledge, that it was _him_ with her, it was… It was simply more than she could handle.

Spike came down from his own high, his pleasure flooding into her womb, and collapsed against the tiny blonde beneath him. It took several deep, unnecessary breaths before he finally fully came back to himself and rose above her. “Buffy?” His vampiric features faded as he nuzzled her cheek.

“Huh?” Her eyes opened to the world she’d witnessed while he was inside of her. Everything still seemed rich, vibrant, vivid… Like she was finally seeing clearly.

“You need to eat, my pet,” he murmured into the golden pleats of her hair.

Her nostrils flared, and she detected that the wounds she’d left on his throat were still bleeding. “I thought I already did,” she teased, a twinkle in her eye before she leaned up to tenderly lick his wounds clean.

“Mmm…” He purred in response, squeezing his eyes shut tight in a contented manner. “Need to get in a quick hunt before dawn, or you’ll be rippin’ the walls apart by next sundown,” he clarified, reluctantly getting up and pulling out of her body.

She whimpered at the loss. And then her stomach growled.

“See?” he countered cockily. “Told ya so.”

Her eyes narrowed for a second as she rose on shaky legs. He’d given her one hell of a pounding for her first time, after all. “Arrogant prick,” she snorted under her breath, glancing down at her clothes to find them all but shredded apart. Little tracks of dried blood and the occasional bruise now marred her unnaturally pale skin. He’d left his marks upon her. The thought sent a quick jolt of warmth through her body that dispelled whatever anger she’d been feeling.

Spike’s own body had taken a beating as well, he noted with satisfaction. Shrugging off his duster, he removed the remains of his shirt, not even flinching when the fabric was pulled from the healing cuts on his torso. He tossed the garment aside and pulled two more of his vast collection of black shirts from the drawer. “Here.” He tossed the spare to Buffy. “Not that I don’t mind watchin’ you run around naked, but ‘s not the easiest way to attract prey.” He gave her a little wink.

The corner of her fanged mouth twitched upward for a second before she removed her ruined shirt and pulled his on, knotting up the excess fabric so that it was tight around her shapely body. He took the brief expression of humor as a good sign, as well as her irreverent comment earlier. The mortal fire tended to get buried deeply within newly turned vampires, giving in entirely to the demon. It could take decades for human quirks to emerge once more, and – as much as the demon hated to admit it – those sparks of humanity were what kept the strongest vampires alive. A little added advantage in the great struggle ahead…

“Think Dru owns exactly one pair of jeans,” he commented off-handedly, digging through his mate’s things haphazardly. “’m sure she won’t even notice you wearing them until we can nick you some new stuff.” He found a pair of whitewashed jeans with bellbottoms that really quite probably actually were from the sixties and gave those to Buffy as well, before redonning his black leather.

The entire time, the demon within Buffy watched him with fascination and a little bit of awe. Her instincts were giving her all sorts of signals: _Sire, Master, powerful…_ And some scents provided her with more disappointing information: _Mated, mate’s a Master, too powerful for me to challenge…dammit…_ And then there was what was seeming to be a perpetual constant: _So hungry, need to feed, rip, shred, tear…kill…_

A toothy grin and Spike opened the door. “Ready for the night, luv?”

* * *

Drusilla loved cool autumn nights when the moon was full and the wind blew the dead leaves down to the ground. Of course, tonight was hot, still, and there was no moon. But that didn’t keep her from dancing through the gravestones anyway, eyelids shut lightly as she allowed her other senses to navigate her through the cemetery.

She could sense the others behind her, the two pixies that had just arisen in their new mum’s arms and a third female that had helped her Spike in the raid that brought back the slayer. Now, Drusilla didn’t often trust other females. They had a foolish tendency to underestimate her – as well as Spike’s devotion to her – and ended up making very fatal challenges. 

Drusilla liked this Japanese female, Sayo, however. For one, she was already mated and had shown no interest whatsoever in making any silly moves on Spike, despite having worked closely with him. Secondly, she’d watched Spike and Drusilla’s take-over with amusement and even a little delight. That gave her just a bit of common sense in Dru’s mind. Although the younger vampiress obviously was under the impression that the newest mistress was a bit nuts. Dru could live with that. She _was_ a bit nuts. Best to make sure Sayo never doubted that she was still dangerous, however.

And the two pixies were simply _delightful_. The pretty little one with hair like a warm winter fire had woken up and, within minutes, had plundered the mouth of her darker sister. Drusilla had clapped in delight and petted whatever naked flesh she could find as the redhead showed her early dominance. Such a vicious little hunter, too…

Drusilla’s latest pirouette came to a halt as she noticed the redhead’s ears perk up an instant before she darted into the blackness of the night. With a dizzy swirl of her neck, she gestured for Sayo to follow. The other female ground her teeth, but complied, taking a somewhat hesitant Cordelia along with her.

The two of them caught Willow just as the argument in the house they’d snuck upon reached its crescendo.

“Why are we—?” Cordelia began…and froze when a second voice added to the shouts.

“There’s nothing here,” Sayo instructed the two fledglings, pulling lightly at Willow’s arm. “We can’t get in without an invite, and—”

Willow snarled and snapped her fangs at her elder. “Don’t wanna listen to you,” she countered with an evil smirk, the deranged light in her eyes looking startlingly like Drusilla’s for an instant. “Wanna pet.”

Cordelia purred at that, sidling up against Willow. “You’ve wanted this one for so long, too,” she said to Willow sympathetically. “And so have I… We share him?”

Sayo frowned and let out an exasperated cry when the other two leapt out from the bushes and into the yard. Fortunately, the moonless night meant that they were still well-nigh invisible. But fledglings knew virtually nothing of concealment, and Sayo had been in Sunnydale long enough to know that the slayer’s friends patrolled this area, even if the girl herself was taken care of.

She moved to pull them back – a harsh taste of discipline was in order – but an icy, bony hand caught her arm. “Puppies and kittens never play nice for long,” Drusilla informed her, adding an insane little giggle just for the added chill it would put into the younger vampiress’ spine.

“They’ll get themselves dusted in less than a week this way,” Sayo hissed back. “Do you have any idea how many demon hunters there are in this town? And you and your mate can’t really afford to lose those loyal to you at this point.”

Drusilla recognized the veiled threat for what it was, but outwardly pretended she’d missed it. A little note was filed in the back of her mind, however, to keep alert around this one. “No dust,” she concluded, studying the portends that surrounded the crouching pair curiously. “Blood and pain and fire and… Well, maybe a little dust,” she conceded. “It does stain so…”

Sayo shivered and pulled back from her new mistress. That look in Drusilla’s eyes, like she knew something the rest of them couldn’t even begin to comprehend…

The sound of something breaking inside the house shattered the quiet of the night.

“I don’t have to put up with this!” a young man’s voice screamed. “Three of my best friends went missing last night! And do you even care?!” Another smash and a dark-haired teenager emerged, slamming the back door shut behind him.

“Ooh…pretty, indeed…” Drusilla looked him up and down appreciatively. “My little girls have good taste.”

Sayo fidgeted but made no comment. After all, prey was prey. Even if it was a bit dangerous…

Willow and Cordelia stepped from the shadows. “Xander?” Willow said in a deceptively meek voice.

Xander looked up in surprise from where he’d sat down on the back steps, head in his hands. He blinked in disbelief when he saw them, and then a wide smile lit up his face. “W-Willow? Cordelia? You guys are all right?” He got up and began walking towards them. “What about Buffy? How did you get out? I mean, the Brooding Wonder and I took out a few, but we barely made it out of that place without becoming din—”

And he froze in his tracks, abruptly realizing that the two of them both looked just a little too pale, and their faces were in shadow, and since when did Willow slink around like a dominatrix in heat? And, while he was at it, why was Cordy’s tongue slipping into Willow’s ear?

“Oh…shit!” Wide-eyed horror froze him in his tracks, and then he made the smartest move of his life: He ran.

Willow and Cordelia chased in hot pursuit, yellow eyes gleaming in the porch-light, but Xander only had a dozen feet to go, and they were all the way across the yard. Willow taloned hand reached out for the back of his shirt just as he ran through the threshold of the Harris house. The fabric ripped free into her hand, and her body bounced roughly off the barrier and stunning her. She fell back into an equally furious Cordelia’s arms.

Xander got one good look at his best friend and the girl he’d kinda never fully admitted he’d liked since eighth grade. And then he slammed the door on their demonic features, ignored his parents continued argument in the living room, and reached blindly for the phone. _Must call Giles._ No other coherent thought could form in his head at that moment.

“Got away, then,” Drusilla jutted out her lower lip sadly when the two young vampiresses returned to their elders’ company. She patted Cordelia comfortingly on the cheek and twined a lock of Willow’s hair between her fingers. “Such fire,” she commented absentmindedly, watching the red slide against her skin. “It will consume him quickly enough…”

“Uh…right,” Sayo said, picking up a wandering scent in the night air. “Now let’s go eat.”

* * *

It was a scene so common in Sunnydale that the populace knew it almost entirely by heart. A cliché, really. But there were always those who don’t listen to the warnings of those wiser. The young, mostly, who do the stupidest things in their acts of rebellion. Like, say, making out in one of Sunnydale’s cemeteries in the dead of night.

Now, Kathryn didn’t do things like this often. But how often did one of the Razorbacks’ receivers ask you out on a date? And Jason…Jason was just stupid enough that this was the sort of thing he did all the time.

“C’mon,” he taunted, pulling on her hand as they wound their way through the grave markers, “we’re almost there.”

Kathryn looked around anxiously, peering into the shadows in a vain search for the night’s secrets. She jerked at the slightest of noises, the crinkling of leaves, a rustle in the underbrush… “Did you hear something?” she asked, her voice a mere squeak.

“What?” Jason retorted. “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out?” He rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise.

“N-No,” she managed to put on her best false smile. “Just wondering if it was someone we know.”

Jason grinned at that and pulled her around the corner, pressing her back against the Hoffman crypt. “The guys all know this is my spot,” he pretended to reassure her. But, truth be told, he didn’t really care. He leaned in to kiss her, smiling when she responded eagerly, resting her hands on his shoulders. He moved in closer, hands running up and down her back at first, then moving forward…finding a breast, squeezing it, fingers sneaking up her skirt and between her legs…

“What are you doing?” Kathryn broke away with a start, batting at his hands. “I—”

“Oh, c’mon,” he taunted, “you know you want it, baby. Just relax and—”

“No!” she exclaimed, outraged. She tried to break free, but he caught her wrist roughly and slammed her back into the stone.

“A little cock-tease?” he sneered. “Is that what you are? ‘Cause then I think I’m gonna hafta teach you a lesson about—”

“Pardon?”

The interjected comment made Jason jump nearly a foot.

“You done, then?” the figure from the shadows asked, the orange glow at the end of his cigarette lighting his face for an instant. “’Cause, frankly, your li’l speech was boring me to tears. And I’d like my taste sooner rather than later, if ‘s all the same to you.” With a confident swagger, Spike stepped from the darkness, grinding the butt of his fag under the toe of his boot.

Jason was a bit too flabbergasted to say anything. Kathryn hoped for a brief moment that this was the form of her salvation. “Help me!” she cried out, breaking free of Jason’s grasp and running over to the bleached blonde she’d never seen before. “H-He tried to…”

“Hey, look, buddy,” Jason said defensively. “You can have her. Just let me go first. After all, I got her out here, and—”

“Sorry,” Spike said with an over-dramatic sigh and a glance heavenwards at the idiocy of this pair. “I don’t fuck stupid,” he informed Jason with a nasty grin. And then his features shifted as he turned to the girl beside him. “I _do_ eat stupid, however.”

She gasped in horror and then tried to cry out as he sunk his fangs into her throat, but his hand covered her mouth, silencing her.

Jason gaped in slack-jawed horror for a second, wet himself, and then made a run for it. He made it around the corner to the crypt before he yelped like a little girl at the…well, little girl before him. A brief panic attack hit him then, before he recognized the blonde from his remedial algebra class. “Y-You help people, right?” he gasped. “Th-There’s this guy, and…something’s wrong with his face!” he exclaimed hysterically. “He’s after me! You’ve gotta—!”

Buffy cut off his tirade by grabbing him about the neck and throwing him back against the stone wall with every ounce of her superhuman strength. “Y’know,” she commented, brushing her hair back from her face with her free hand, “I’m really tired of looking out for moronic asses like you. You wander about in cemeteries at night and then whine and beg for me to help you when you suffer the just consequences. Well, guess what?” She leaned in close, and he realized for the first time that her face was distorted in the same way that other creature’s had been. “I’m sick of saving your sorry lives…”

A strangled cry sounded throughout the cemetery as she bit in hard and rough, tearing at flesh and lapping up the fresh, warm blood that bubbled up from his veins. He tasted of pure, unadulterated fear, and it was intoxicating to her, delicious. Almost as delicious as tasting her sire…

“Think he’s dead, pet,” Spike commented wryly, watching her suck insistently at the rip in his throat even after the blood had long dried up.

With a shrug, she dropped the limp body and wiped her mouth clean. “How’d I do?” she inquired with a little smirk.

“Well, definite points for the menace,” he replied with a quirk of his lips. “’ll give you a ten for that. Bite… Well, a bit messy. Tend to lose some of the good stuff that way. Although with that one, had to have been a bitta fun, and that’s the whole point, right?”

She laughed a deep, rich laugh and sashayed over to him, slipping one arm around his waist as she leaned up to lick the blood from his lips. “Haven’t had this much fun in… _ever_ ,” she agreed with a flip of her hair.

He chuckled and caught her against him, tongue flicking out to clean her own face. “Sensin’ a bit of hostility, am I?” he commented casually.

Her demonic features retreated slightly at that for the first time – not all the way, but hazel shone through the gold of her irises, showing him the same lost little girl he’d battled to the death the night before.

“You don’t know what it was like,” she said, frowning and struggling for the ephemeral thoughts. He knew it was rough in these early days. The demon wanted pleasure and pain and blood, and reason came only in fleeting glimpses. “T-To have your life snatched out from you one day,” she was having trouble forming the words, but the _feelings_ were practically overwhelming her, and that desire to tell her sire what he had done for her won out. “They told me I would die. Th-They took everything that made my life worth living and sent me out to die… Alone.” A little giggle, and she brought her hand up to cover her fanged mouth. “Guess I got the last laugh, huh?”

“Well, you _did_ technically die last night,” he countered with an amused little grin.

“No,” she countered, nuzzling up against him and purring, “I was given my life back, the one they stole from me…” She nipped at his throat. “Have I thanked you for that yet properly?” she asked coyly with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“Can’t say as you have,” he agreed with a rumbling growl deep in his chest.

“Then…” she began seductively, leaning in closer as if to kiss him, “you’ll just hafta catch me to get it!” she exclaimed abruptly, leaping free of his arms, blowing him a kiss, and running away with a laugh.

He laughed as well and chased after her in hot pursuit. He was still faster than her, of course; she’d develop greater speed over time. But he enjoyed cutting her off, missing by mere inches, drawing out their play-hunt for as long as he could.

Buffy breathed in the scents of night and reveled in her renewed existence. All those years being turned had been her greatest fear, and now here she was racing through the midnight fields with eternity stretched out before her, a powerful and passionate immortal lover hot on her heels, cares and worries brushed aside… God, she’d been an idiot when she was a slayer. _This_ was her life, her salvation, her—

“Angel.” She burst through the copse of trees and froze in a dead halt when she saw him, just standing there, waiting.

“I’d hoped, you know,” he commented casually, looking up at her with soulful brown eyes as he pulled the stake slowly from his pocket. “You were the best I’d ever seen, and if anyone could’ve made it…” He let the statement trail off.

An angry snarl escaped Buffy’s lips. “What?” she demanded sarcastically. “You’re gonna stake me? My big, hulking protector? Hypocritical much?”

He fixed her with a look. “You’re not Buffy,” he informed her matter-of-factly, taking a step closer…

And, at that moment, Spike burst through the bushes with a whoop. He caught one sight of his grandsire with the stake and his face hardened. Instantly, he was at Buffy’s side, pushing her back.

“We can take him!” she insisted angrily.

“Uh…no,” he informed her sarcastically, keeping his eyes on where Angel had frozen the entire time. “He’s two-hundred fifty. You’re…let’s see… _one day_. You can _not_ bloody well take him!”

“But you can,” Buffy purred against him, sidling up affectionately, mostly for Angel’s benefit. God, what had she ever seen in this hulking wimp? Her Spike was lean and hard and powerful and oh-so-beautiful in his savagery…

“You sired her?” Angel asked point blank. He could already smell the truth, of course. They were sire and childe, they’d killed already tonight, and they were apparently already lovers… That last fact really shouldn’t have felt so painful. After all, he _knew_ that she wasn’t his Buffy, but still…

“Something _you_ never had the courage to do,” Buffy snarled back, resting her head on Spike’s shoulder.

A bark of laughter escaped Spike at that. “She was your girl?” he realized, the irony of it all suddenly hitting him. “Or not, apparently,” he added nastily, “since I got her first…in _every way_ …”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. He did begin to back away, however. He knew only too well that he couldn’t handle Spike alone, given his weak diet of pig and rat’s blood over the past century. “This isn’t over yet,” he informed them both before vanishing into the shadows.

Buffy blinked. “We’re just gonna let him go?” she asked incredulously.

Spike looked down into her golden eyes and felt a sort of panic rise up in him. She was weak still, and young and impulsive, and she’d been foolish enough to challenge one of the most powerful Master vampires alive. He was pretty sure he could’ve finished Angel off, but at the risk of this beautiful childe he was just beginning to know?

“For now,” he conceded, pulling her close and hoping she would listen to him. “Gotta make you strong again. You’re startin’ all over what with bein’ a vampire now, and I want you at my side if it ever becomes necessary to bring dear old Angelus down… Whattaya say, luv?”

She smiled up at him. “He and the others are going to try to spoil all our fun,” she warned.

“Nah,” he brushed her concerns aside, taking her hand and leading her back home, “we won’t let them crimp our style. Have a right fun party without ‘em.”

Buffy giggled and slid herself into the crook of his arm as they walked home together. “Promise?”

“Promise, luv, and I—”

“Never break a promise to a lady,” she finished for him.

“Smart girl. Fast learner,” he praised her.

“Wanna see what else I learned fast?” she asked coyly.

He chuckled. “When we get home. Right now, why don’t you tell all about those mates of yours? Don’t really fancy any surprises…” 

And, together, they vanished into the dark of night, only Spike aware of the silent observer in the shadows. A shake of his head, and then Angel vanished as well…


	3. Chapter 3

Spike woke up with a contented murmur and found himself buried deep within a pliant female body. Before he’d even fully awakened, he was already rocking slowly within the tight, wet passage that gripped him and held on tight.

“Dru…” he mumbled lazily, thumb tracing the thigh that was flung over his waist.

A chuckle sounded from behind him, and he became belatedly aware of the fact that he had a female body on either side of him. “Guess again, my sweet,” Drusilla giggled into his hair, tightening her arm around his waist and pressing soft kisses into the back of his neck. One sharply nailed finger slipped down between where she was spooned up behind him, crept between the smooth cheeks of his ass, and found his puckered opening, just teasing it lightly for the moment.

Spike’s eyes opened to find his golden childe before him, rocking against him and taking him even deeper within her, all in her sleep. He remembered now. He’d been the first to take this girl last night, and she’d just keep rehealing herself and hurting all over again unless she had something inside her to make her loss of virginity permanent. And he’d been kind enough to oblige her, unlike what that bastard Angelus had done to Dru, drawing out her pain for over a year. Now, a certain amount of pain was fun, but that was just cruelty with no pleasure attached after long. It still made his blood boil to think about it…

“Broke her in last night, did you?” Drusilla commented casually, tongue dancing across the column of her childe’s throat. So pretty and pale, he was. She just wanted to eat him right up, make him writhe beneath her, pleading for his release, all wanton and panting unnecessarily and naked white limbs clutching at black silk sheets… She shook her head back into the present as he spoke again.

“Didn’t hear you come in this mornin’,” he commented casually. “Good hunt?”

“Oh, I can’t wait to show you our darling little pixies,” she agreed. “So cold and bloodthirsty… Pretty redhead licked her dark sister up and down for _hours_. Mmm…” She closed her eyes and savored the memory. “Naughty, _naughty_ girls…”

“Sound like just our type,” Spike agreed, looking back over his shoulder at her. The movement of his hips within Buffy became harder and more violent – her evening wake-up call.

Buffy began grunting and gasping aloud at that, her eyes opening wide with a start as he struck just the right spot within her over and over again. “Spike…” she whispered in fulfillment, nuzzling his bare throat affectionately. Nothing in her human existence could ever have prepared her for that deep-seated feeling of _connection_ she felt whenever her sire was inside of her. Almost as if there was a line linking her heart to his, tugging gently at her and making her feel more powerfully than she ever had while she was alive…

“There’s my clever girl.” Spike turned back to face her and brushed her lips with a gentle kiss. Buffy looked surprised at the tenderness of the gesture; Dru just chuckled, already well aware of how sentimental he was when he woke up in the evening. Soft and cuddly, instead of hard and brutal. But Buffy was fast becoming as endeared with his little quirk as Drusilla had.

Drusilla watched her childe and grandchilde’s lips play lightly over each other with a sense of profound satisfaction. Silly William for trying to argue against this… With a nip of warning against Spike’s neck, her fingers found their way into the sticky fluids that coated the union of the two other vampires’ bodies. Slicked up, she returned to his opening and slid one finger right in. A giggle of satisfaction escaped her lips that his muscles gave in to her so easily. Her Spike knew her so well…

“God, Dru…” he gasped, breaking his kiss with Buffy. “So good…”

Drusilla winked at Buffy over his shoulder at her puzzled look. “Still so many pleasures to teach you…” she promised with an enigmatic little smile. A second finger slipped inside her mate’s tight opening, and the soft pads of both fingers searched pointedly for the pleasure spot within him.

In response, Spike’s hands clutched hard at Buffy’s hips, grinding up into her as hard as he could before thrusting himself back upon Dru’s hand. God, this had to be a demon’s version of heaven… Sire and childe, both touching him, caressing him, bodies pressed tight up against him and…

“Fuck!” he cried out in ecstasy, spilling his pleasure deep inside Buffy.

The look of pleasure on his face did her in, causing her to whimper aloud as the world fell out from around her.

“So radiant,” Drusilla commented softly, brushing the golden locks of Buffy’s hair back off her forehead while the fledgling vampiress was awash in ecstasy. Her eyes unfocused for an instant, and a small smile crossed her face. “You’ll take such good care of my pet when I’m gone…”

“Dru?” Spike’s voice was mildly concerned as he slipped out of Buffy’s trembling body. Honestly, all these women were conspiring to wear him out… “You still feelin’ all right?” He brushed aside Drusilla’s hands and rolled over to face her at that, cupping her face in his palms as he stared intently into her midnight eyes.

She smiled. What ever had she done to deserve such a devoted childe? If only… “’m fine, Spike,” she insisted with a quirk of her lips.

His eyes drifted down to her bare shoulder. “That bruise wasn’t there last night,” he pointed out, scarred eyebrow raised.

Damn, he was hard to lie to… “Dinner got a bit rough,” she brushed his concerns aside, pulling him up close against her so that her breasts flattened against the muscles of his chest. “Nothing to fuss over.”

“Dru…” he protested.

“Shh,” she insisted, cutting him off with a finger to his lips. He promptly sucked it in, and she smiled. Oh, eternity with this man could be so sweet…

“Mmm…” Buffy stirred from what had turned into something of a post-orgasmic coma. She immediately rolled over to cuddle against Spike’s back, and that was when she became fully aware of the fact that there was another woman in bed with them. “Spike?” she asked hesitantly, confused.

He rolled onto his back, catching them each against one side of him. “Buffy, meet Dru,” he offered by way of introduction. “Dru’s already met you, of course…”

“But not properly,” Drusilla scolded him, batting him on the forehead playfully before leaning over his body to catch Buffy’s chin with one long finger.

Buffy retreated instinctively, but as she looked into the older vampiress’ dark eyes, all thoughts seemed to vanish, and she just stared vacantly into those endless pools. She would almost have sworn she could see the stars swirling about in the depths of the abyss…

“I’ve been waiting for a little girl of my own for so long,” Drusilla smiled with a sort of deadly benevolence, stroking Buffy’s hair again before leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the fledgling’s lips. It wasn’t a kiss particularly designed to allure, but it wasn’t merely sisterly either. Almost a promise that soon there would be many more, and those would be anything but innocent…

Spike gritted his teeth as he hardened again while watching the two women kiss. That settled it; they were _definitely_ conspiring together to kill him. “Right then,” he said in a husky voice after they had broken apart. “We all acquainted now?”

“Perfectly,” Drusilla giggled.

Buffy merely shook her head, her mind still whirling at the fact that she’d just kissed another woman. And it hadn’t been all that bad. The blood lust swirling violently to life within her again wasn’t making thinking any easier, either.

“We’ve got a night of mayhem ahead of us, then,” Spike announced, reluctantly getting up from between them…

* * *

Absolute silence permeated the room, its occupants still too shocked to speak.

“Heaven help us all…” A broken, gravelly voice finally broke the silence.

“I’m thinking it’s already kinda abandoned us,” Xander retorted with a mirthless chuckle.

“B-Buffy, too?” Giles went on, knowing it was the only explanation for her disappearance but still clinging desperately to hope.

“I saw her and Spike together,” Angel said simply, a hint of pain in his own voice.

“Yes, well, I suppose…” Giles couldn’t find any way to complete that sentence. To tell the truth, he didn’t know what to think. Half of him was convinced this was the greatest nightmare that could ever befall a Watcher, but the other half was strangely… _relieved_ that she was still around. Which was absurd, he knew. His Buffy was dead, and the demon that inhabited her body must be destroyed. Perhaps this was even worse than her death, since he was torn, unsure of how to act. If she’d been dead, at least he would’ve known to mourn…

“W-What do we do?” Tears stained Xander’s cheeks from his confrontation with Willow and Cordelia the night before.

Angel at least seemed to have the answers. “We save them,” he insisted. “They wouldn’t want to go like this, as _monsters_ …”

“Dunno, they seemed to be getting their kink on with the lesbian loving,” Xander retorted sarcastically.

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “They’re not your friends any more,” he informed the other man bluntly. “Everything you loved – everything that was _good_ within them – is gone now. All that matters to them is the blood. They’ll kill and destroy and cause pain. And, unless we stop them, they’ll be coming after _us_.”

Giles removed his glasses at that, desperately polishing the lenses, vainly hoping that the world would look different if they were just cleaned properly… “Buffy wouldn’t have wanted…” he began.

“Buffy’s gone,” Angel concluded. “And we have to get rid of that abomination that’s taken over her body before it’s too late…”

* * *

“Honest opinion,” Buffy demanded, spinning back to face Willow and Cordelia with a bright smile on her face, “am I too pale now to pull off summer yellows?”

“It does kinda make you look dead,” Willow agreed with a hint of her old hesitant nerd voice. She cocked her head to one side. “Too ‘sweet and innocent’, too,” she added with a lick of her lips as her eyes raked up and down the former slayer’s naked body.

Buffy fingered the yellow dress between her fingers nostalgically before tossing it aside and digging through the rack some more. “How about blue?” she inquired.

“How about leather?” Willow shot back, grinning at the skin-tight red leather pants she’d just found. She tossed a pair Cordy’s way before trying on her own. “Mmm…the seam rubs right against your clit…” Willow purred, strutting about in the pants and the high-heeled boots she’d nicked from the shoe store.

Buffy, however, was distracted by the skimpiest black silk blouse she’d ever laid eyes on. She eagerly pulled it over her head, admiring how the thin layers of fabric settled over her breasts, making her chest look fuller. Instinctively, she turned to check herself out in the mirror, frowned when she remembered she had no reflection, and turned back to Willow and Cordy. “How’s this?” she inquired, zipping up the short black skirt that went with it.

Willow licked her lips and purred. “I could eat you right up,” she giggled, sidling up against Buffy and sniffing the perfume of her hair with a sigh.

Buffy grinned but pulled away. She was still so delighted that she got to keep her old friends with this new life. And, for once, she and Willow didn’t have to stare longingly in the shop windows at clothes their parents would never let them get, whether for price or taste reasons. Now, they could have everything they’d ever wanted, and those foolish enough to try to stop them had made a wonderful evening snack. If only Willow would stop coming on to her; it was getting kind of weird…

“Are you birds done _yet_?” Spike’s voice sounded over the tomblike silence of the closed shopping center as he entered the designer store with Drusilla. She had a long crimson dress slung over one arm that, as far as Buffy could tell, was virtually identical to the one she was wearing.

 _Rule number one if I’m stuck unliving with her for long_ , Buffy rolled her inner eyes. _Give that woman a desperately needed makeover…_

Willow danced over to the two master vampires with girlish glee. “What do mommy and daddy think of my new outfit?” she asked with a little pirouette.

Spike’s body raked over her petite, leather-clad form hungrily. “Daddy likes,” he purred, drawing her up against him.

Dru’s fingers caught up one lock of Willow’s crimson hair and nuzzled her cheek against it affectionately. “Fiery little girl… Be careful you don’t burn yourself on her, my William,” she teased.

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do…” he murmured, rubbing against Willow’s lithe body.

She licked one of his cheekbones approvingly in response. “Naughty daddy,” she teased before pulling away and nestling up against Drusilla. “Won’t mommy protect me from the big bad wolf?” Her lips met Dru’s, and the two vampiresses began to paw each other.

Buffy just rolled her eyes. Willow sure had picked up fast on how to suck up to the oldest vamp around. Buffy seriously doubted the redhead was anywhere near as giddy as she was acting for Dru’s benefit. Now, Buffy didn’t have to play any such games. She already had a powerful sire to look after her and, oh, how she wished it were her duty to look after him day and night…

“You like?” she asked Spike softly, a coy smile on her face as she sauntered over to him.

His scarred eyebrow quirked upward as he appraised her. “Pretty pet,” he agreed with a seductive smile.

She grinned and flung her arms around his neck, nibbling at his ear. “Wanna head back?” she asked, one finger sliding down the front of his black tee. Her hand trailed downwards seductively until it found the waistband of his jeans, and she hooked her thumb into the denim. The exact same move he’d pulled on her during her final mortal fight. God, she’d been wanting to do that for so long. She was becoming ever more eternally – literally – grateful that the slayer ‘do not touch’ laws no longer applied to her.

He sighed. “We head back and ‘ll hafta deal with those wankers hanging about the audience chamber…”

Dru cooed to him sympathetically at that, turning her attention from Willow for the moment. “Tricky boys don’t want to play,” she agreed. A group of a dozen or so of the previous administration’s minions had been growing more restless over the past few days. Apparently, they missed the monotonous droning and being ordered around like simpletons. Personally, Dru was baffled as to why _they_ weren’t considered mad. After all, they were free to do whatever and whomever they pleased now. But some fools just didn’t know what to do with themselves. “Give our kind such a bad name,” she tisked.

“That they do, luv,” Spike agreed wearily. “Best to find some menial task for them before they stir up trouble…of the less than fun kind.”

Willow yawned. “Bored now,” she abruptly complained, pulling away from Drusilla and heading back to Cordelia. The dark-haired vampiress had turned out, somewhat surprisingly, to be the quietest and the weakest of the bunch. “Let’s see if our puppy wants to come out and play tonight,” she encouraged her sister.

A dark grin lit up Cordy’s face at that. “He smelled _good_ last night, didn’t he?” she sighed wistfully.

Willow scowled for a second at the dreamy look in the other vampiress’ eyes before shaking it off with a kiss. Her lips covered Cordelia’s possessively, reminding her only too well who had taken most strongly to this new unlife.

At Willow’s persistent hands and tongue, Cordelia gave in, moaning as Willow’s cool tongue dipped deep within her throat, tasting and claiming the sweetness she found there. One of Willow’s hands had tangled in her hair now, while the other clutched a firm breast through the pale satin of her blouse.

“My pretty little girl,” Willow whispered against Cordelia’s cheek, vampiric features emerging as she drifted down to the dark throat before her.

“Yes…” Cordelia gasped, stumbling backward and catching herself on the edge of the table, awash in the bliss the redhead was giving her. Willow’s hand had unzipped the front of her leather pants by now, and a clever thumb was rapidly stroking away all of Cordelia’s inhibitions.

“ _Mine_ ,” Willow repeated vehemently, razor-sharp fangs nicking her sister’s flesh and producing perfect red droplets of blood for the tasting.

“Yours,” Cordelia breathed, spreading her thighs wantonly, needing more. Now.

Spike watched on in aroused fascination as Willow climbed atop Cordelia, yanking away tight leather as she went. His jeans strained painfully at the seams, and he was almost tempted to assert his right as their elder to slip right in the middle of that delectable sandwich.

Drusilla tugged him away before he could act on the impulse, however. She knew better than to let her boy’s attention drift too far from her by now. “The pixies will have their fun,” she decided, leading him away. She cast a casual look back at where Willow was moaning, Cordelia’s dark head between her spread naked thighs. “Mommy’s got a special treat for her black knight…” she added seductively.

He practically purred in response, clutching her to him as they exited the store.

Buffy, seemingly forgotten for the moment, frowned before chasing after them. “We’re going home?” she asked pointedly, sidling up against Spike’s free side and tangling her arm with his.

“So many, many people…” Drusilla sighed. “Can have a bit of privacy here,” she commented, pulling free of Spike’s embrace and twirling around in the blackness. The wind whistled through the trees in the forest behind Sunnydale Mall and for one instant created the eerie illusion that Drusilla was mistress of the earth itself.

Buffy found the image surprisingly breathtaking. Spike found it irresistible. With a roar, he caught hold of his mate and tackled her against the nearest tree, lips plundering hers in a brutal and passionate kiss. Buffy watched in a mixture of fascination and ire as they began slowly moving together, hands fumbling at clothes. 

She wasn’t sure whether to be aroused by the picture they presented or jealous. Because there was no doubt in her mind whatsoever that Spike had completely forgotten about her existence for the moment.

“Dru…” he moaned, breaking their kiss and gasping in ecstasy as she traced burning wet kisses across his face, her hands already teasing the agonizing hardness in his jeans.

“Yummy,” she squealed, laughing in delight as he held her against him while he slid down to the grass.

“Love you so much…” he whispered against her throat.

She pushed back on his shoulders, forcing him to the ground beneath her. “Someone’s feeling left out,” she sing-songed against his ear.

He started at that and looked up to Buffy’s feet. “C’mon, pet,” he encouraged her, stretching out one hand. “Join us.”

Buffy hesitated for a second, gnawing at her lower lip. This wasn’t exactly her idea of romantic. Romantic would be this situation, minus the other woman.

Drusilla’s hands found their way inside his jeans, and she pulled him out, stroking his hard flesh sensuously before bunching her skirts around her waist and descending upon him. They both cried out in strangled gasps, attention drifting from Buffy for the moment.

Then Dru began to ride him at a rough pace, and his eyes returned to Buffy. “Plenty of pleasure to go around, luv,” he purred. “C’mere…”

He was so alluring for that one moment – face contorted in pleasure, long-fingered hand reaching out to her, begging to bring her to her release… Even Dru was smiling in an inviting way, perfectly willing to share her mate. Buffy took a hesitant step toward them…

And stopped, resolved. The demon within her was screaming at her to take what she wanted. _Now!_ But a fragment of her human self reasserted itself, insisting that she didn’t want him like this, didn’t want this to be just for fun or sport. Deep inside her a frightening voice was playing with attaching the word ‘love’ to her sire’s name. And that deep ache already hurt too much at having heard him just proclaim his love for another…

“I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” she shook them off. “I’m going hunting.”

Spike moaned and thrust up hard into Dru’s willing body. God, she was doing that little swirling hips thing that she did, and it was driving him downright mad. As a result, he barely even heard what Buffy said.

“Later then, sweetie.” Drusilla’s ebony eyes met Buffy’s hazel ones for a second before she returned her full attention to pleasuring the man beneath her.

Buffy’s lips pursed before she sighed and walked off. “Later…” she whispered sadly before vanishing into the shadows…

* * *

“Mean little boy has moved,” Willow frowned, nostrils flaring as she sniffed the night air.

Cordelia breathed deep as well. “Is that…Giles?” she ventured.

“The Scoobies stick together. How quaint.” Willow’s irate tone made it all too clear that she didn’t find it quaint in the slightest. “Perhaps we should nab ourselves another pet…”

Cordelia’s eyes flashed yellow at that. “I. Want. Xander,” she insisted forcefully.

Willow’s eyes narrowed for a second in anger at being contradicted, but then a wicked smile lit up her face. “A grand hunt, then,” she agreed, remembering all too well the body she had longed after for all of those cruel high-school years. Oh, she’d teach him good for ignoring her for so long… “Come along,” she caught Cordelia’s hand and dragged her along in a wild sprint, “must search around to see where our boy’s gone…”

And Cordelia smiled and ran after her. _Our boy._ She liked the sound of that…

* * *

Buffy was surprised when she realized where she’d wandered to. She’d had no specific goal in mind, just the desire to get far away and forget her loneliness. _Stupid Drusilla_ , she seethed inwardly. _Why can’t she just find another childe and leave Spike to me?_

But thoughts of the elder vampires fled her mind at the surprisingly happy notion that she was _home_ again. The lights from the house of Revello Drive looked warm and welcoming, and before she knew it, she had reached the door, one thought in mind. _Mommy…_

The door was locked, of course. Her mother wasn’t a complete idiot. And Buffy’s key had… Well, she didn’t really have any clue what had happened to her key. She rang the bell.

The ring was met with an instant response. The door opened to reveal Joyce and…

“Mommy,” Buffy’s eyes teared up as she reached in for a hug and…

The force of the invisible barrier knocked her straight back onto the sidewalk.

Joyce gulped as she watched her daughter fly magically backwards the instant she tried to enter their home. “B-Buffy?” Her voice sounded hoarse, ragged, hopeless. “I-It’s true, then?”

Buffy frowned. She couldn’t enter her own home. Why couldn’t she enter her own home? “Invite me in, mom,” she pleaded. “I-I…” She laughed and pushed her hair back off of her forehead. “So much has happened… Something _wonderful_ , mom. I need to tell you…well, everything.”

“We have already informed her.”

Buffy’s happy expression faded when Giles appeared in the doorway behind her mother. “B-Buffy, I’ll have to ask you to leave, or—”

She shook her head. “Giles, it’s _me_ ,” she insisted. “I mean, I know all that stuff you told me about the vamping process, but it’s all wrong. I’m still the same Buffy.”

Joyce’s fingers clutched the doorframe. “You’re really a…?” Her voice cracked. “Oh god, Buffy, I’m so sorry…”

Buffy frowned. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she insisted. “I—”

“No!” Joyce screamed out in abrupt horror.

The warning gave Buffy the split-second warning to spin around and avoid the stake Angel had lined straight for her back. For a minute they froze, before Buffy grinned evilly.

“Miss me, lover?” she purred, features shifting.

Angel’s face remained hard, stoic. The pain in his eyes was all too poignant, however. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” he pleaded.

“Difficult?” Buffy repeated incredulously. “ _Difficult_ is living a monotonous human existence, cursed to die because some sadist on high decided it would be a good idea to rob innocent little girls of their lives! This…” Her fists clenched.

“—Is quite a party.” Willow’s excited voice and gleeful clap announced her and Cordelia’s presence. “Found the puppy!” she exclaimed happily, waving to where Xander was also watching the proceedings from the door of the Summers’ home.

“Still hiding,” Cordelia pouted sullenly.

Xander gulped and clenched the cross more tightly in his hand.

Angel froze. He knew he could take Buffy. Or Willow or Cordelia. However, all three? It had been a _long_ time since he’d been in any kind of serious fight, and he didn’t like the odds. Again. Plus, he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Spike wasn’t far behind.

Buffy took advantage of his split second hesitation and ran for it, leaping over Angel’s leg as it swept out to knock her from her feet and tumbling painfully to the ground behind Willow and Cordelia. The two vampiresses blinked at her in surprise, unaware of what they’d just broken up.

“Ooh, yum!” Willow said approvingly, eyes raking up and down Angel’s body. “Now, _there’s_ a puppy I wouldn’t mind teaching a few tricks…”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “I doubt you’ve got _anything_ you could possibly teach me,” he countered, waiting for the right moment to attack the group of three and be done with this nightmare forever.

Buffy watched him coil up for the strike. “Let’s get out of here,” she pressed, tugging at Willow’s sleeve.

Willow opened her mouth to snap at the former slayer before her scheming mind reminded her that Buffy had the good fortune to be Spike’s childe. And that she and Cordelia were sireless, living off of Spike’s charity. Trying to assert her dominance over Buffy might not be the best way to ensure their happy, everlasting future.

“Let’s go.” Willow caught Cordelia’s arm, and the three vampiresses slowly backed away.

Angel froze for a second, debating the wisdom of following them into the shadows.

“Angel, no.” Joyce’s whispered voice cut him off. “I-I can’t watch… Not my daughter. I don’t care what she is…”

With a reluctant sigh, he turned back to the house and joined the rest of the Scooby survivors. Their plan obviously still needed a bit more convincing…

* * *

Buffy slipped into the bedroom swiftly and silently, ignoring the malevolent looks many of the minions showed her. Obviously Spike’s enemies that Drusilla had referred to earlier. But she didn’t have the energy to think about them tonight. Her mind was too caught up with swirling thoughts of that evening.

Spike and Drusilla were already in bed, Drusilla curled up casually against his side. From their erratic breathing, Buffy guessed that they were both asleep. For one instant, her fingers itched to finish off the elder vampiress in her sleep, take Spike as her own, and…

 _Really_ piss him off. Probably make him hate her.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t deny the clear love she’d seen in his eyes every time he gazed upon his mate. Like she was his world. And Buffy couldn’t even begin to flatter herself that he looked at _her_ like that.

She sighed and slowly began to remove her clothing, tossing her blouse and skirt onto the old armchair in the corner. She winced when she felt a rather painful bruise on her ribs and cursed Angel; she must have gotten it in her wild escape from him. Gingerly, she tested the tender flesh there as she approached the bed.

For a moment, she froze in place, contemplating her options. Spike had left her enough room beside him. And, really, she didn’t have any place else to go. She supposed she could go to Willow and Cordelia, although the things those two did to each other… Well, it was a bit… _intriguing_ perhaps, but not her thing. Her thing seemed to be Spike and solely Spike.

He murmured slightly in his sleep and tossed his head against the pillow, and she was mesmerized for one instant by the sheer beauty of this man. All sharp, hard lines and alabaster skin, soft white curls and powerful muscles. An immortal Adonis laid out before her in all his finery. Hesitantly, she licked her lips…

It felt almost as though she were trapped between worlds at that moment. The world she’d faced tonight – her mother, her watcher, Angel… – they had all turned their backs on her now. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go back. But this new one…

To want someone this much but not be able to have them entirely? She’d never been one to share, even back in her human days…which really shouldn’t feel so far away already…

Then, with a shake of her head, her demon reasserted itself. _Want. Take. Have._ The motto blocked out all rationalizations and concerns. All that mattered at that moment was feeling her sire’s body against hers, inside hers…

She lifted up the sheet and slipped her naked body under the covers beside him. He stirred at her presence, one arm reaching out to catch her up against him.

“You’re back late,” he mumbled against her throat, placing a wet, lazy kiss to the pale flesh there. 

“There was a bit of a problem,” she admitted with a grimace.

He frowned, creases marring his usually carefree brow. As if to emphasize his concern, he slipped inside her. Met with only minimal resistance. Good, that meant her body was getting accustomed to having him inside her, healing itself in the mold of his contours. The Sire’s Prerogative – shaping her for eternity so that she fit him best… “What happened?” he inquired tenderly.

Buffy murmured happily and slid her thigh over his, deepening his penetration. “Tell you in the morning?” she requested softly, laying her head down on his bare chest. Her demon growled contentedly. She wanted him, yes, but a strange fusion of the demon and human that had been growing ever stronger over the past few days was satisfied with what she had right now. Feeling him inside her, holding him tight, being close…

“You’re all right?” he asked, concerned, caressing her body casually as he drifted back off to sleep.

“Fine,” she assured him, leaning in to steal a sweet kiss from his lips.

He purred in response. “Couldn’t handle it if something happened to you,” he confessed, tucking her head until his chin. “’S only been a few days, but…already know we’re a perfect fit, baby.”

“Literally,” she smiled and closed her eyes.

“Already love you…” he added, voice fading away as he finally fell back to sleep.

And Buffy’s eyes opened wide in response, questions on her lips and no one left conscious to answer them. A strange heat flooded her body that felt almost as if her heart were beating again. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, like…

“Love you, Spike,” she whispered, closing her eyes again and savoring this moment for all it was worth. It wasn’t long before she slept as well.

And, only after Buffy’s breathing slowed with slumber, did one black eye crack open. Drusilla groaned and rolled over in her sleep, the persistent ache in her forehead back with a vengeance. She’d felt almost normal these past few days with the slayer’s blood giving her extra strength. But she was no fool and knew all too well that her health was fast fading again.

Rolling so that her back faced her mate, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force sleep upon her weary limbs. She’d overdone it today, she now realized. The dizziness, mild nausea – it was all back. And every time she closed her eyes, visions of her own death flashed before her eyes, sending her into an anxious panic.

 _At least I’ve found someone else to love my William properly_ , she assured herself, settling in for a long, restless night…


	4. Chapter 4

Buffy had quickly come to learn two facts vitally necessary for her survival in her new family group:

1) Drusilla had sane days and she had crazy days. Anyone who messed with Drusilla on her crazy days had to be crazy themselves. Buffy was beginning to wonder if Willow was entirely right in the head…

2) Drusilla was _always_ Spike’s top priority, whether at the expense of food, minions, or physical pleasure. And the best way to stay on Spike’s good side was just to accept this and work with it.

Now, Buffy wasn’t particularly fond of either of these points, but she figured she could learn to live with them. It was just that on nights like this, it seemed more trouble than it was worth.

She’d woken up that evening to discover that Spike had slipped right out from between her and Drusilla earlier. The elder vampiress remained unconscious even as Buffy dressed and headed out for the evening. She’d noticed that Drusilla was sleeping more and more lately, and she had some vague notion that her grandsire was ill. Beyond that, all pertinent details had been kept from her.

As she stepped out into the audience chamber, she was struck by how unsettled the various vampires resting there seemed. She’d become more and more aware her surroundings over the past few weeks. Sire and Food still preoccupied her demon ninety-percent of the time, but it was no longer a narrow, tunnel focus. 

And, while the other vampires outside their extended family group had never caught her attention before, now they were well-nigh impossible to miss. Nearly a dozen angry, yellow eyes zeroed in on her as she made her way hurriedly to the makeshift library where Spike currently spent most of his waking hours. A little shiver ran down her spine at the hatred and violence in some of those eyes. 

She’d been vaguely aware until now that Spike’s hostile takeover of the Sunnydale gang hadn’t met with universal approval, but she’d never seen the evidence before her very eyes. And, like all good hunters, they’d sensed a weakness in the enemy in the form of Drusilla’s illness and were just waiting to strike…

That little tickle of demonic knowledge in the back of her own consciousness added that she was a weakness as well, a liability. A childe still a fledgling and far too weak to fend off any attacks from the older minions…

She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she’d closed the door to the audience chamber behind her and met Spike’s eyes. He gave her a quick nod of recognition, but his attention was preoccupied by the books in front of him.

She wandered aimlessly about the room for a minute, impatient with all the research that had dominated their family’s time lately. Willow and Cordelia – whom Drusilla had proclaimed to be just as sweet as family just two weeks ago – both seemed equally bored. However, Spike had obviously ordered them to help with the searching. Funny how all the skills they’d acquired to help a slayer now were turned to the very opposite purpose.

They both seemed less than eager to research, however. Buffy smiled a fang-toothed smile when she saw Willow’s hand slip beneath Cordelia’s skirt under the table. The dark-haired vampiress let out a little yelp of surprise, and Willow flashed her a wicked grin in response.

Across the table from them, Dalton – a bookish vampire who had been (and probably technically still was) the official scribe of the Order of Aurelius – gave them a dark look before pushing his wire-rim glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and returning his yellowed eyes to the book before him.

He paid Buffy no heed, and neither did she he. Demon set upon one purpose, she sashayed across the room to slide behind where Spike sat at the end of the table, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “Good evening, lover,” she purred against his throat, tasting the salty skin there.

His lips quirked for a second as he turned to face her, and he caught her hand, guiding her easily into his lap. “Dru still sleepin’?” he inquired, thumb rubbing absentminded circles in her thigh.

She sighed. Always Dru first… “Didn’t even stir when I left,” she confirmed. One long finger played gently with the pale skin on his throat, grudgingly tracing the white scars that belonged to his sire. “I’m hungry,” she complained petulantly, squirming slightly in his lap.

He sat back wearily at that, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. She quickly batted it away and continued to massage his forehead herself. “Can’t afford to waste time runnin’ around and hunting for food,” he informed her tersely.

Willow and Cordelia had turned their attention to Spike at this conversation now, both as eager as Buffy was to leave the dull books behind. Dalton simply continued as he had been. He had long since grown accustomed to extensive research hours without the thrill of the hunt.

Buffy pouted at that. A combination of voices was bubbling up in her, wanting to beg him… _Forget about Drusilla. I’ll take care of you, satisfy your every need, do your every bidding. Just come hunt with me. You don’t need her anymore. Let her go and make me yours, your mate, and I’ll be so good to you, baby…_ She knew such an impassioned plea would just drive her farther from her goal, however. And a whit of intelligence held by both her demon and human halves stayed her tongue.

“You need to feed,” she said simply. “Come on,” she purred, nuzzling his throat, “hunt with me…”

He bit back a weary sigh. “Sire comes first, pet, even for me.” He proceeded to lift her up off of his lap and set her down on her feet. “You go on without me.”

Buffy pouted at that. He hadn’t hunted with her in weeks now, and her demon practically cried out in pain that they’d gone so long without sharing the chase together, the kill, the wild passion as they joined in the blood of their latest victim…

“We haven’t hunted for three days, either,” Willow chimed in hopefully. She and Cordy were a bit more of a precarious position in their family. While Spike doted upon Buffy as his childe, the two other fledglings frequently caught the brunt of his nearly perpetual wrath. Not that Willow didn’t enjoy some of his punishments. She practically purred at some of the naughty things he’d inflicted upon her when she pushed him over the edge…

He had no time for punishments now, however. He gave Willow an irate look, then noticed that Cordelia had a similar wistful expression on her face. “Fine, then,” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “ _I’ll_ go, bring you all back some tasty treats for the evening.”

Willow’s face fell at that. “We can hunt for ourselves,” she insisted.

Dark blue eyes narrowed at her. “And I need every pair of eyes available to search these texts,” he countered matter-of-factly.

Willow saw the challenge in his eyes, realized it wasn’t going to be a fun punishment if she crossed him, and nodded meekly, turning back to her work. Beside her, Cordy pouted in silence but spared a brief squeeze to her sister’s thigh.

Buffy, however, couldn’t help but grin at this turn of events. “A fresh kill will do you good,” she encouraged him, sidling up against him. “Work out all that…tension…” Strong fingers kneaded into his back through the leather of his duster.

He sighed contentedly at that. “Take up where I left off, right, pet?” he requested. “Dalton’ll tell you what needs doin’ after that.”

She frowned. “I thought I was coming with you,” she began, confused.

“Can’t afford to indulge right now,” he corrected, gesturing for her to sit down at the research table.

She pouted at that. “Don’t you want me to come with you so that we can—?”

“I said, _sit_!” he snapped irritably, eyes flashing yellow and arm striking out to push her away from him.

Wide-eyed shock flashed through her eyes before an angry sullenness snuck over her. “Whatever you say, _sire_ ,” she spat indignantly before stalking purposefully over to the chair he had vacated.

His eyes narrowed at her, and a low growl rumbled through his chest. Impudent little girl, thought she could get away with acting all haughty… “Remember your place, _childe_ ,” he retorted coldly, the gold sparks swirling in the depths of his eyes indicating all too clearly that she would be thoroughly punished when she got back. “I’ve no time for your disobedience now…” And, with an angry slam of the door, he was gone.

Buffy gulped. Perhaps ironically – since he had been the one to kill her, after all – she had never been afraid of him before, not even when she’d been the slayer. But now… She could practically feel her blood run cold, and the angry demon within her remembered only too late that he was old and powerful, and she was young and weak, and he held all the power over her. She’d merely been fortunate up until this point that he’d found no reason to treat her as anything less than a favored lover. Now, though…

“Someone’s in trouble,” Willow sing-songed with an evil grin…

* * *

He couldn’t stand seeing her like this. It was like a cruelest of jokes. For a few short days, it had seemed like the slayer’s blood had worked and his dark angel was back to normal. But it had just been a short reprieve, and now she was worse than ever.

Spike sat softly on the edge of the bed and cautiously brushed back a few ebony locks that clung to her sweat-soaked forehead. Right unnatural, that, for a vampire to be fevered like this. She didn’t stir at his touch, and were it not for the fact that she wasn’t dust, he would’ve feared that he was already too late. It was very rare that she woke at all anymore.

“I-I’ll find a way to save you, my love,” his whispered into the dark of their bedroom, his voice ragged. “I promise.”

He received no response to his impassioned plea, and his demon raged within. He knew how to fight, kill, rip, shred, claw, and bleed. Knew how to eviscerate any physical foe that would ever dare harm his wicked girl. But, to be so helpless against something so ephemeral as a magical illness…

Face vamping out, he smashed his fist hard into the wall, shattering the plaster there and sending chalk-white shards flying through the air. The pain in his fist wasn’t enough to overcome the internal one, however, and his demon howled in agony.

The sound drew a soft murmur from Drusilla, and she rolled over onto her side, as if sensing her mate’s closeness and moving towards him.

He bit down his fury and forced himself calm. After all, he didn’t want to wake her when she needed rest. “You just need a bit to eat, ‘d wager.” He knew it was a lie, but little lies spoken out loud were all he had until that supposed genius Dalton got his head out of his arse and found a way to translate that cure of hers from those books. “It’ll be all right, luv,” he soothed with a gentleness that belied the raging war of emotion within him.

One quick kiss to her brow, and he was out the door. Bringing in food wasn’t much, but it was all he could do right now…

* * *

“Oh, shut up!” Buffy exclaimed, giving Willow a furious look.

The other vampiress merely grinned. “Daddy loves Mommy,” she teased, swirling a long crimson lock around one finger. “Silly little girl thinks she can lure him away…”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not Dru,” she retorted smugly, “and you’ll never _be_ Dru. You’re not fooling anyone with that fake childlike loon act, so knock it off.”

“And you think _you’ll_ be Mommy one day?” Willow couldn’t help but add snidely.

Buffy seethed inwardly, all too aware of Cordelia’s curious eyes on the both of them. “Watch your mouth,” she snapped, flipping angrily through the pages of the book before her. Her violent actions earned her a pointed cough from Dalton, and yellow eyes narrowed at him.

Willow didn’t seem to want to let the point pass, however. “You’re not the slayer anymore,” she shot back. “Can’t use those superpowers to hoard over us now. In fact, you’re no stronger than we are…and certainly not as strong as the two of us put together…” She gave Cordelia a pointed look.

The dark-haired vampiress frowned, obviously not having intended to become involved in this argument.

A low growl grumbled through the back of Buffy’s throat. “You wanna try me?” she challenged, standing up. “I’ve still got all those years of training over you…”

Willow rose as well. “No need to get so angry,” she laughed it off, giving Buffy the most insincere smile she’d ever seen. With a little swagger, the redhead approached her. “I’m just pointing out the obvious, really,” she clarified.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Willow warily. “And what’s that?” she shot back defensively.

“That you,” Willow reached her, and the tips of her fingers trailed up and down Buffy’s arm in a sensual caress, “really belong with us, not your sires.” She leaned in so close Buffy could feel the cool breath against her lips. “We’re sisters, the three of us,” Willow concluded. “It’s silly to think Dru and Spike will take you in as one of theirs, that Spike will ever…” she chuckled ruefully, “ _love_ you when he loves Drusilla.” One ghostly pale, spider-like finger reached out to stroke Buffy’s cheek. “We used to be such _good_ friends…” she practically purred, a light of lust and power flashing deep in the back of her eyes.

For an instant, Buffy was entranced. The redhead’s sensual motions made her want to do nothing more than to tackle her back onto the table and make Willow scream in pleasure and pain beneath her…

And then she snapped to and shoved Willow aside roughly. “I am his childe,” she countered arrogantly. “And you two…”

Willow snarled in anger, and Cordelia rose as well at the implications.

Dalton blinked up with a weary sigh and strategically moved several of the books out of the path of imminent destruction. Oh, Spike wouldn’t be pleased about this, and he was only too certain he would bear the brunt of the master’s wrath. But he wasn’t fool enough to step in between this latest struggle for dominance.

Fortunately for him – and unfortunately for the three vampiresses – it never came to that.

“Where’s Spike?” an angry voice demanded from the door. The way he pronounced that name made his distaste for their latest leader all too clear.

Buffy snapped her attention to the door at that, noticing for the first time the dozen or so minions that had spilled in from the entrance hallway. She frowned at that. Of course, they must have seen Spike leave. “He’s gone out,” she countered, “and you don’t have permission to be here.”

“Ooh…California Bimbo says we don’t have _permission_ ,” one of the younger males snickered.

The leader of the little gang – a forty-year-old minion named Jared, if Buffy recalled correctly – snapped at him to shut up. “We demanded to see Spike,” he insisted, words slurred through his extended fangs.

Willow snickered at this, alliance suddenly shifted in face of the newcomers. “What part of ‘he’s gone out’ don’t you understand?” she retorted sarcastically. “Shall we say it more slowly so that you can keep up?”

Jared growled at that and took another step into the room. “The traitor Angelus kills more of us every night, and Spike does nothing to stop him. He won’t even give us audience.”

“Maybe that’s because your problems are boring,” Buffy countered with a yawn.

Cordelia let out a bark of laughter at that, her eyes gleaming like liquid gold in the dim candlelight. “I suggest you little boys leave, unless you want to end up dust when Spike returns,” she added haughtily. “Or do you need the three of us to protect you from the big, bad Angelus?”

A delighted little giggle escaped Willow’s lips as well. “Silly puppies can’t even cut their own food,” she added, head cocked to one side and a deranged look in her eye.

“Watch your tongue, bitch,” another of the intruders spat. This one had shaggy brown hair that hung half over his eyes. Ivan, Dalton had provided later.

“Ooh, semi-harsh language from the peanut gallery,” Cordelia countered, looking decidedly bored with this turn of events. “Are you going to shut up and go away now, or are we going to have trouble?”

There were several murmurs in the crowd at that. No one liked being talked down to by the three youngest vampires in the gang, but crossing these three would be an act of defiance against Spike’s authority, sure to bring them the harshest of punishments.

Jared, at least, seemed to understand the wisdom of a hasty retreat, even though his demon rebelled against it. With an angry spit to the ground at Buffy’s feet, he spun on his heels and walked out, taking several of his closest friends with him.

However, the younger, more foolish vamps didn’t move. And chief among these was Ivan. The door slammed shut with finality behind Jared, leaving six intruding vampires still in the makeshift library.

With a wicked grin, Ivan sauntered further into the room, clawed fingers tapping pointedly on the table. “You want me to leave?” he countered smugly. “Then make me.”

Buffy stepped forward and snarled at that, fist aimed for his jaw, but her arm was caught at the last minute by a huge, bulking minion that must’ve once been a linebacker.

Cordelia leapt at the six-plus-foot vamp at that, nails raking painfully into the side of his face. He released Buffy with a yelp, and Buffy took the opportunity to lunge at Ivan.

Willow blinked as an all-out war seemed to have broken out before her before a delighted grin lit up her face and she leapt into the fray with a jubilant cry, tackling a scrawny vampire a full two decades her elder and trying to force the razor’s tips of her thumbnails into his eye-sockets.

Cordelia, however, didn’t have the element of fear or surprise on her side. The bulking brute she’d attacked was furious now and backhanded her violently across the jaw. She slumped against the table in response, sending parchments skittering across the floor. In an instant, her assailant was atop her, holding her down and prying her knees apart.

Dalton let out a yelp of horror and quickly dove to retrieve the sacred documents. No one interfered with his work. After all, the role of the scribe was untouchable to internal political struggles within a vampire clan. He had to duck and dodge to avoid taking extraneous hits from the fighters who were unaware of his presence, however.

Buffy neatly tripped over him as a strong kick to the gut sent her sprawling back to the floor. He quickly untangled himself and dove under the table, but the distraction had kept Buffy off balance long enough that Ivan and a beefy stout vamp with greasy black hair that was only a year her elder had all the time they needed to pin her effectively onto the floor. Beefy-and-greasy promptly sat himself down right in the center of her back, and despite all her wild flails and kicks, she couldn’t knock him off.

“Well, look at what we have here,” Ivan said snidely, catching her chin roughly and forcing her to look at him. “If it isn’t Spike’s haughty little childe herself.”

“Pretty little thing,” Beefy-and-greasy said from where his still sat atop her. Her constant squirming was making him painfully hard. A fact which only caused Buffy to struggle further.

“Oh yes,” Ivan agreed before leaning in and running his long, thick tongue across her cheek possessively.

She shuddered in disgust and turned her head away. Vaguely, she heard sounds of Cordelia whimpering in pain as the giant vamp plowed into her and, while Willow still seemed to be putting up a frenzied struggle, she now had three furious and lustful male vampires to contend with. They toyed with her, groping and slashing, and she screeched like a wild woman in protest. No help from any of those quarters, then…

“That’s right, you little slut,” Ivan spat. “No one to save you now. See how weak you are without your _daddy’s_ protection.” He spat at the word ‘daddy’.

Buffy merely growled, and her eyes flashed gold.

“I think she wants to be taught a lesson,” Beefy-and-greasy giggled giddily, giving her ass a quick squeeze.

“Why don’t you give it to her, then?” Ivan inquired coldly.

Beefy-and-greasy practically clapped with glee and ripped at her skirts, pushing them up around her waist. She ceased her struggles beneath him once she realized there was no point; she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of fighting or begging. And – when he finally thrust into her rear entrance, lube-free – she fought back tears and screams as well. She simply fixed Ivan with icy, deadly eyes the entire time.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Beefy-and greasy grunted from behind her. “You should have a go at her next.”

Ivan seemed disinterested in this, however. His eyes locked with hers, and he slowly lowered his hand to the waist of his jeans, opening up his fly and pulling out his straining cock. Watching her still and helpless against the assault, he began to stroke himself before her.

Inwardly, Buffy seethed. She was confidant she was bleeding, but the pain didn’t register, nor did any pleasure. Her body simply felt nothing, while her demon consumed her with cold-hearted rage. _How DARE these mere minions touch the childe of a master? When Spike gets his hands on them…_ Her demon shook that thought off, rage now honed to a narrow pinpoint focus. _No. When I get my hands on them, I’ll make them scream and bleed in agony, rip their flesh to shreds, ruin them for eternity so that they can never find pleasure in touch again…_

Her lips turned upward with a wicked smile at Ivan, and for one second he faltered. Then, he grinned as well. “Bitch likes getting fucked up the ass like the little whore she is,” he exclaimed in triumph, his pleasure overcoming him at that. He squirted his seed onto her face, marking his victory over her. Behind her, Beefy-and-greasy’s excitement increased, and his thrusts turned rougher.

Never to culminate, however.

“Are we interrupting something?” a cool and powerful female voice sounded throughout the library.

Instantly, the conquering group of males stilled in their actions. Beefy-and-greasy practically whimpered in protest when Ivan gestured for him to pull out of Buffy so that they could make their getaway.

From the doorway, Sayo watched the six rebellious male vampires with contempt. The eldest of them wasn’t even a quarter of a century, yet these fools dared to challenge Spike in such a way? Her eyes narrowed on Ivan as the eldest of the attackers.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, gesturing to the rest of his gang to follow his motions. Sayo had defeated him brutally in a struggle for dominance between them less than two years ago, and he had just now fully recovered his strength now. He didn’t want to face off with her again so soon, especially not with her mate present. That put Spike’s forces with nearly even numbers to his, and he knew better than to fight with even odds.

Sayo saw that the three young vampiresses were all weakened and didn’t bother to challenge the filthy traitors as they filed out of the library, however. She knew better than to pick a fight with her allies in such a defeated state.

With a farewell pat to Buffy’s cheek, Ivan followed the last of his friends out. “Next time Spike fucks you,” he gloated, “see my face…if he’ll even touch a little used bitch like you now…”

She snarled at him and struck out with one clawed hand, but he was out of reach and gone by then. Fury boiled through her veins as she yanked her skirt back down and wiped her face clean, rising shakily to her feet.

Around the room, Willow and Cordelia followed similar motions, although Willow’s clothes seemed to be completely ripped to shreds. Bleeding fang marks dotted her breasts and inner thighs.

And, at that moment, as the three vampiresses watched each other recover, a shared bloody promise passed between them: _They’ll all die in the most painful way possible for what they’ve done to us…_

* * *

Buffy was so jumpy, she slashed out without thought when she heard someone step into the shower behind her. A powerful hand caught her wrist, however, before she could do any damage. For a moment she just stood there, frightened once more, before ever so slowly, Spike slid his arms around her and began tracing soft kisses up and down her collarbone.

She sighed in audible relief and clung to him, letting out little whimpering mewls against his wet flesh. The one thing that had truly terrified her about the attack that evening was that he would find her tainted now. But, from the way he was caressing her – so gently and unlike the usual wild passion that accompanied their mating – she knew that all was still well with her world. Unless…

“You heard?” she was practically afraid to ask.

He nodded, blue eyes boring into hers, capturing her in their fiery intensity before he leaned in to kiss her. She moaned aloud at the taste of him on her lips once more, the scent of his body as he surrounded her. That had been horrible – those few hours when the scent of Ivan’s gang had obscured her sire’s musky aroma. She’d even found Drusilla’s scent strangely comforting when she returned to their rooms.

“Buffy…” he pleaded against her ear, teeth nibbling at her. “Just tell me who, luv. ‘ll make sure burnin’ in hell seems like a walk in park after I’m through with them…”

She sighed and leaned against him. “You’re not mad?” she asked warily. Off of his frown, she clarified. “About my disobedience earlier?”

He chuckled ruefully at that. “So busy worryin’ about one of my girls that I wasn’t even there to protect the other.” He brushed aside several locks of wet gold from her forehead and pressed a kiss to her brow.

She practically purred. She should’ve known her sire would make it all better, take care of everything for her and… She paused.

“Tell me who,” he pressed. “Let me make it up to you. Show those wankers that no one touches you but me.”

Oh, it was an enticing promise. One that she was all too tempted to accept. But a deep part of her demon railed against it, whispering of her own vengeance in the back of her mind. “No,” she shook her head.

He frowned at that. “No?” he questioned, one eyebrow quirked accusingly.

She leaned in to lick the hot droplets of shower water from his chest as they fell. “They already fear you,” she pointed out. “If you kill these, it won’t change anything. They still won’t fear _me_. And it’s only a matter of time before someone else tries to take advantage of me, to use me as your weakness…” She nuzzled his cheek affectionately before looking him right in the eyes. “Let _me_ kill them,” she pleaded. “I-I haven’t asked for much, but…” _Let me have my revenge. Give me reign to begin a bloodbath so terrifying that none will dare touch me again. Let me become a vampire to be feared, just as you are. Perhaps even an equal, some day…_

He thought on that for a minute, and for a second she was afraid he would refuse. Then, that wicked irascible smirk curled up the edges of his lips. “My girl’s gonna make the world bleed,” he whispered fondly.

She sighed against him. “Make them regret even _thinking_ they can cross me,” she concluded. “Make sure this never happens again…”

His expression turned serious at that. “Swear that every time,” he advised her, “but don’t be too surprised if you can’t hold yourself to it during these first few years…”

She frowned and looked up at him, but his face remained impassive, usually open eyes closed off to her for the moment. It sounded as if he spoke from experience, however. And for a vampire of his age to even hint at something so private to a childe as young as she… “I love you,” she assured him, catching his face between her hands and kissing him fervently.

His tongue tangled with hers, fangs extending and nicking them both so that their blood mingled in the union of their mouths. “Anything you need from me, kitten,” he swore, moving down to her throat.

Coyly, she pushed him away before turning her back on him. She bent over and gripped the towel rack with both hands, waggling her bare ass at him playfully. “Erase the memory of those wankers from me,” she requested, looking back at him with a wink.

He growled in approval at her intentional use of his terminology and proceeded to accede to her request, taking her hard and fast, over and over and over again until the water had run cold, but neither of them cared, and then again one more time after that just to make sure.

And the entire time, Buffy remembered her attacker’s final words and did imagine his face, but twisted up in pain and horror as she and Spike made love in his torn remains. That insignificant fool would pay the price for trying to break her. Oh yes, her revenge would be sweet, indeed…


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s come to my attention,” Spike’s voice boomed throughout the entrance hallway, freezing all the vampires present with fear, “that some of you are less than pleased with the new management.” He gave Drusilla a quirky smile, and she clapped her hands together in mad delight.

Beside her, Buffy couldn’t help but be impressed. Dru had barely been strong enough to walk out here on her own two feet, and her insane ramblings had gotten quite irritating as of late. Fortunately, her insanity seemed to be part of her strength. All the vampires around them seemed to be downright terrified of what their new mad mistress might do. All except Willow, or course, who sat at her mommy’s feet and nuzzled her knee affectionately. Buffy just hoped this wouldn’t come to a fight. Because, really, Spike was the only exceptional fighter among them at the moment, and they were hopelessly outnumbered…

“In fact,” Spike went on, “you’re prob’ly all wonderin’ if assassinating me ‘d be a good idea right about now.” He said it with a yawn as if this were the least concerning idea in the world. The cocky grin he gave the crowd made it appear as though he were reveling in his newfound authority. To the contrary actually he found it rather tedious to have to order these idiots around, but one of the regrettable facts of unlife was that even vampires had to worry about unfinished business. “Personally, I can’t see why you’d bother. The snooty folks ‘re gone and not about to come back. But if you’ve got some kinda suicide wish…” His eyes narrowed to angry slits and flashed gold for a second. “By all means, try it,” he snarled, flashing his fangs for an instant.

Drusilla fixed her eyes on one of Willow’s attackers at that moment. Her irises seemed to darken for a minute, like deep, fathomless, liquid pools. Her victim froze like a statue in response, body posture shifting to a distant, trance-like stance.

Dru beckoned him forward with one long, red nail, and the minion was powerless to fight her bidding. He knelt down before her, and she pointedly scratched her nail across his throat, leaving a thin trail of blood in her wake. Then, with a girlish giggle, she released him from the thrall and turned her focus back to the group at large.

Buffy couldn’t help but admit that that little display had been effective. The recently-enthralled vamp looked downright petrified, and several of the others that had been in on the attack were shifting nervously now. Buffy noticed with some triumph that Ivan wasn’t there; insignificant little git was probably too frightened to even show himself while her sire was there…

“So, as I was saying,” Spike went on as if the stunt were an every day occurrence to him…which it was, of course, “have your fun, go get a bite to eat, and let things rest. If not…well, you won’t live to regret it…” 

He paced as he spoke and froze on this final word directly in front of Jared. The younger vampire gulped, suddenly less confident in the face of this powerful elder. Buffy could almost feel sympathy for him. After all, he hadn’t done anything to her except make several haughty remarks and then stalk out. But as Spike had promised, he was leaving the worst of the gang to Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia’s not-so-tender mercies. Which left Jared the most obvious open game…

“You,” Spike acted as though his selection from the crowd were completely random. “You have a problem with the way things’re bein’ done?”

Jared gulped and began shaking slightly. However, with all other eyes on him, he really only had one choice. “A-Angelus is decimating our numbers,” he began nervously. “I-If we don’t destroy him…”

Spike raised one irritated eyebrow. “Do tell,” he said with false formality.

That shut Jared right up. “N-N-Nothing,” he insisted quickly, backing up into the crowd in hope that Spike would forget about him.

Spike had zeroed in on this example to be set, however, and yanked Jared back out into the center of the room, draping a falsely friendly arm around the other vamp’s shoulders. “So, what you’re sayin’,” he began casually, savoring the glint of fear in the minion’s eyes, “is that you can’t bloody well take care of yourselves, is that right? Need me to…babysit, as it were?”

Jared’s eyes widened at that. Caught between a rock and a hard place. “O-Of course not,” he finally stuttered out.

“So you all have the common sense, then, to keep away from soddin’ Angelus,” Spike concluded. “So ‘s not my fault if some stupid gits decide to try him on for size…”

“No, not your fault,” Jared agreed readily.

Spike gave him a halfhearted pat on the shoulder and released him. “Good to know you’re a reasonable sort of bloke. I am too, y’know? Always willin’ to respect a vamp who’s got the courage to stand up for himself. None of this sneakin’ around behind the Master’s back and botherin’ his minions during important work.” Narrowed eyes honed in on Jared.

For a second, the younger vampire looked like he was about to bolt. But he saw that a circle had formed around where he and Spike were standing, the faces in the crowd taunting him for his own cowardice. Not that they weren’t just as afraid, but it felt safer to play along with Spike’s scapegoat for the moment.

“You,” Spike pointed directly at Jared’s childe and one of his chief supporters, “and you,” he gestured to one of the elder females from the old Order regime. “I think we need to show our dear friend…” Spike looked questioningly at Jared, even though he knew his name perfectly well.

“J-Jared,” he managed to gasp out.

“Jared,” Spike continued matter-of-factly, “a lesson.” His eyes drifted to the far wall, and the chains, spikes, and various weapons the previous administration had left there. “Let him enjoy our best _hospitality_ ,” he added with an evil grin.

Instantly, the two vampires obeyed his command, ignoring Jared’s protests. Spike watched disinterestedly as they dragged him across the audience room and shackled him to the wall. The female, in particular, was at her most brutal and yanked on the chains until Jared was left dangling in mid-air.

Spike studied the effect with his head cocked to one side before he spared the female a small smile. “Enthusiasm in one’s work is most encouraged,” he said approvingly.

She let out a submissive little purr in response.

“Now,” Spike turned back to the group at large, “if any ‘f you are havin’ difficulty getting food, Jared here’s been so kind as to volunteer his blood for the night.” He fixed Jared with an icy blue stare as if just _daring_ him to contradict this statement. Satisfied when he saw all fight go out of the young troublemaker, he amended his sentence. “But no one’s to drain him dry, right? He just said a few stupid things, didn’t _act_ to undermine my authority…” Calculating eyes scanned the crowd at the word act, and none of Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia’s attackers dared to meet his eyes. 

Buffy smirked when she noticed the greasy vamp that had taken her from behind was practically pissing himself with fear. Good. Let the terror build up in him until he was jumping at his own shadow. And then, just when he thought he was finally off the hook, she’d strike…

“Right then, if that’ll be all,” he concluded nonchalantly before turning back to his family. He picked Dru up in his arms, and she let out a little squeal, clinging to him dotingly. 

Another smart move. Drusilla probably wasn’t strong enough to walk back to their room by herself at this point, and all Spike’s theatrical posing would lose its potency if she took a stumble. Buffy was beginning to appreciate her sire’s flare for the dramatic more and more every second. God, she just wanted to strip him down and lick him from head to toe, _taste_ the sweet tang of power on his naked skin…

Turning away from the curious crowd, Spike carried Dru back to their room. After all, there was a late night ‘Night Rider’ marathon tonight. “Oh, and one more thing…” He paused and turned back with a deadly little smirk. “Don’t interrupt me while ‘m watching TV. Makes me…cranky…” He fixed his eyes pointedly on Cordelia’s attacker before vanishing into his rooms.

With a long, contented stretch, Buffy rose as well. Not sparing a look for any of the other vamps present, she followed after her sire, Willow and Cordelia swiftly on her heels. Only when the door had closed behind the lot of them, did she allowed herself to break character, and a little giggle escaped her lips.

“Did you _see_ the looks on their faces?” an equally bemused Cordelia fought back her own grin, tossing her dark hair back over one shoulder as she collapsed onto the couch next to where Drusilla was resting.

“Yellow swirling gnats flying all around their ankles,” Drusilla giggled in agreement before her eyelids drooped shut. She slid over to rest her head on Spike’s shoulder, feeling an oppressing weariness take over her. “Mommy’s little boy was so pretty,” she murmured against him.

“But nothing compared to my princess,” he countered fondly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. 

For a second Buffy was overcome by the amazing _tenderness_ in his eyes when he looked upon his sick mate, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to do whatever it took to make everything all better for him, even if it meant losing him for herself… Her demon quickly shook off the silly sentimentality, but when she settled beside him, she still spared a small stroke for Drusilla’s hair.

“You were _amazing_ ,” she purred in Spike’s ear, nibbling at the lobe.

He managed an amused grin at that, putting aside his worries for his sire for the moment. “And that’s before I even got you in bed,” he teased, leaning in to her and stroking his tongue seductively up her throat.

She growled in response and leapt into his lap, miniskirt pushing up as she straddled his thighs. “Spike…” she groaned, head thrown back, grinding her wetness down against his stirring erection.

Cordy rolled her eyes. “Can’t the two of you lay off for all of five minutes?” she exclaimed in annoyance. Her exasperation increased when Drusilla decided to use her lap as a pillow instead of Spike. She looked down at their mother’s head and sighed. “Why me?” she wondered rhetorically.

Willow giggled at that and tilted her head to one side curiously as Buffy finally pulled Spike out of those yummy tight jeans he always wore and impaled herself on his thick cock with a gasp and a moan. The redhead licked her lips at the delectable sight. “Feeling…inspired?” she suggested to Cordy coyly.

The other vampiress just gestured to the sleeping Drusilla in her lap with a slump of her shoulders.

Spike’s grunts and Buffy’s gasps increased on the far side of the couch, but Spike managed to clear his head from the pleasure of being one with his childe for a moment’s time. “Red, go out and wait for Dalton to get back,” he instructed, thrusting up harder into Buffy as he did so. “We might have some good news coming…” He grinned up at Buffy.

“Not coming as quickly as I am,” she quipped, tiny little fingers caressing his face, tracing his lips as she rode him at a wild gallop.

He growled at that and grabbed roughly at her shirt, ripping the fabric in two with a triumphant roar. Eyes yellowing, he leaned in and scraped razor-sharp fangs across the pale flesh of her chest, drawing forward round, sweet droplets of blood. Little perfect red spheres that exploded like concentrated ecstasy on his tongue as he lapped them up.

“Fuck!” Buffy screeched at an octave higher than her usual voice, her own demonic features emerging. “So strong, so powerful… Drink me, take whatever you want… God, I’m yours. I’m all yours… Yes, right there, yes! Yes! Oh, Spike… Gonna do you proud, gonna…” And then words failed her as white-hot flickers of pleasure raced up her spine, numbing her, freezing her in place, her fanged lips parting wide for a ear-piercing orgasmic scream…

“Already do me so proud, baby,” he whimpered against her flesh, coming deep inside of her, clutching her body to his as he filled her with his essence, marked her as his…

Willow watched them, fingers lightly brushing over one hardened nipple through the fabric of her shirt, until they collapsed together. Then, with a final blown kiss to Cordy she was out the door.

Cordy merely sighed as the blond couple began rocking slowly together.

“Again? Already?” Buffy breathed in contentment.

Cordelia seconded the words, but she would’ve inflected them with aggravation. And the fact that didn’t have a tasty male vamp of her own for a night of wicked carnal pleasure had nothing to do with her short temper. Really.

“You better believe it,” Spike countered with a feral grin. “My naughty little Slayer…”

As Buffy’s gasps increased in tempo, Cordelia sighed at the flickering images on the television screen before her. “Look, if Dru’s asleep and you two are going to be going at it all night, can I at least watch something _good_?” she asked with a bit of a whine.

Spike spared her a momentary look and growled possessively.

“Fine.” With a bored sigh, she propped her cheek up on one fist and watched that damn nerd show for yet another night, occasionally sparing a pet for Drusilla’s sleeping head…

* * *

Dalton had never been one for excitement. He’d been a priest and a scholar when he was turned nearly eighty years ago. The most unlikely candidate for vampirism there ever was, really. But Luke had known what he was doing. The Order had needed a new scribe after the Slayer – some girl in Stockholm, if he recalled correctly – had somehow gotten her hands on the previous one. Probably when he was stuck doing something dangerous like this.

Pushing his glasses nervously up his nose – they never did fit properly with his demonic features – he glanced around cautiously. All seemed to be clear, but then his senses had been dulled by lack of training and nearly a century of being kept cooped up in libraries. The two guards Spike had sent with him for protection didn’t seem to sense anything amiss, however. He tried to take some comfort in that.

“W-Wait out here,” he stuttered nervously. “I should just be a moment.”

The two vampires didn’t reply in the slightest, not unusual treatment for a scribe, and Dalton was left to take a deep breath and duck into the crypt.

On this moonless night and in the cold stone confines of this crypt, it took even his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark. The tomb around him looked older than it had any right to be. Although only scarcely two centuries old, the stone of the inner walls was already crumbling away, almost as if it were aging prematurely just by being so close to this powerful place.

Dalton shivered and flicked on the flashlight he brought with him. Just because he was a vampire didn’t mean he liked to squint around in the dark. He was used to safe, well-lit libraries, and even though this place was as far from that as he could imagine at the moment, he wasn’t about to make this experience even _more_ unpleasant.

A thick layer of dust and cobwebs coated the twin sarcophagi before him. He glanced briefly at the names and dates there, but knew instinctively that they were not what he sought. Mere apprentices, most likely. Honored to be buried – _Alive?_ He wondered with a shiver – in the same crypt as their powerful master.

He coughed unnecessarily as he walked through a cobweb, pushing blindly at the sticky strands and brushing them off of him. Only when he was through this layer of spider webs, did he finally see his goal, however. 

It was clear that no being – demon or human – had dared to visit this place in centuries. Dalton could practically feel the power radiating off of the cold stone that was the final resisting place of DuLac. He approached the niches in the rear wall of the crypt cautiously. They rather reminded him of the catacombs in Rome, another place he had less than enjoyed visiting. He was on Order business, however – for as long as it took someone with some knowledge of Order successions to challenge Spike’s position, that is – and he wouldn’t dawdle while performing his duties.

The cross itself was blessedly easy to find. He’d brought appropriate towels to swaddle it up in, of course. Eyes squinting through thick glasses, he could just made out the faded inscriptions. The key. Good, he’d gotten what he came for.

Wrapping up the cross carefully and clutching it to his chest like the unholy relic that it was, he moved to leave…and froze.

A crash sounded outside the crypt. Definite sounds of a struggle.

Nervously, Dalton hastened to the door, peered outside, and swore. As he watched, the traitor Angel caught one of the minions Spike had sent to guard him by the throat, pinning the vampire in place while he staked him through the heart. As the first minion crumbled to dust, the second rushed Angel with a furious cry.

Dalton knew that all too soon his second guard would be dust. With an impressive fight-or-flight instinct that even he hadn’t known he’d possessed before, he clutched the cross tightly to him and ran for it while Angel was still distracted with the other guard.

He’d only made it twenty paces before something hit him hard in the side, however. The stone cross tumbled from his arms as he fell hard to the ground, kicking wildly at whatever had attacked him. He heard a cry of pain, registered with surprise that it was a middle-aged human man that had knocked him down, and quickly scrambled back to his feet. 

He ran to where the cross had fallen, swearing when he saw that it was broken in two. Ah well, the text should still be largely readable and…

A sharp pain in his shoulder, and he pulled back with a hiss, somehow clutching the fractured pieces of the DuLac Cross to him despite the pain. He looked up to discover that he faced a young human boy now, one who held a cross out before his chest defensively. Obviously the cause of the smoking burns to Dalton’s shoulder.

He froze for a second, skittish at all these crazy humans he kept running into, and then he heard Angel’s victory roar back at the crypt, and all caution was thrown to the wind. Knocking the boy to the side, he made a mad dash for the trees, praying all the while that more obstacles wouldn’t rise up in front of him. They didn’t, and he vanished into the night.

With a groan, Giles managed to sit up from where the escaping vampire had kicked him into a nearby tombstone. Instantly, Xander was at his side, putting down his cross beside him as he inspected Giles’ wound. Only a few seconds later did Angel finally arrive on the scene.

“There was a third?” he asked grimly, trying to ignore the smell of blood on the cut to Giles’ head.

“He got away,” Xander agreed apologetically.

Angel looked off into the woods for a second, trying to pick up the fleeing vamp’s footsteps. A soft rustle in the distance would’ve been his starting point for pursuit if leaving the two humans alone weren’t so dangerous. “I think he was inside the crypt when I took out the other two,” he finally added simply.

“Yes,” Giles managed a tight-lipped smile, accepting Xander’s hand up, “and thanks so much for your concern…”

“You’re all right?” Angel asked belatedly.

“Quite fine.”

“The vamp who got away had something,” Xander provided. “He grabbed it and ran off. Some kind of stone, I think…”

Angel scanned the cemetery around them. All seemed to be clear now. His gaze landed on the crypt the escaped vampire had been within. “DuLac…” he read the name with growing realization.

Giles paled at that as well. “Oh dear, that cannot be good.”

Xander looked back and forth between them confusedly. “What’s a DuLac?” he inquired…

* * *

“The DuLac Cross,” Dalton said nervously, unwrapping his bundle on the table of the makeshift study, “only slightly damaged…”

“ _Damaged_?!” Spike exclaimed with a roar, grabbing Dalton by the lapels of his tweed jacket and dangling him in mid-air.

“I-It wasn’t my fault!” Dalton let out a frightened little squeak. “Angel attacked. He killed the others. I-I barely escaped with the Cross at all, and—”

“Can it still be used?” Spike demanded, each syllable clearly and angrily articulated.

“Y-Y-Yes.” Dalton nodded so vigorously his glasses fell off the bridge of his nose.

With lightning-quick reflexes, Spike caught them in mid-air. “Well, that’s a bit of all right then,” he said perfectly calmly, releasing Dalton and giving his lapels a light pat before handing the scribe back his glasses.

Dalton breathed a visible sigh of relief. “I’ll need to take a few hours to work out the coding system…”

“And then you’ll have the cure?” Spike demanded.

“I…think so?” Dalton trembled in response.

“You _think_?!” Spike’s wrath rose once more.

“I-I’ll know in two hours!” Dalton promised. A growl deep in Spike’s chest. “One!” he hastily amended. “One hour!”

With a reluctant nod, Spike turned and left the study, his entourage of Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia following after.

“Mommy’s coming back,” Willow whispered excitedly as they entered the audience chamber. “I can just feel it.”

“Can you, pet?” Spike commented curiously. The little redhead had a bit of the occult about her and, since he didn’t have Drusilla’s visions to rely on at the moment, he’d settle for whatever hopes he could get.

“Very much,” Willow agreed confidently. “We’ll paint the whole town red.” She sighed…

…And grinned when she saw the commotion in the audience chamber. A dozen or so agitated vamps were gathered in a circle, all staring intently at something in the center.

“Oh, what now?” Spike grumbled, rolling his eyes heavenwards. “Angelus again? ‘m beginning to think I’ll hafta do the poof in after all, if this keeps…up…” His sentence trailed off as the circle of minions parted for him like a school of fish for a shark. “What’s this now?” he breathed in surprise. “Certainly not Angel’s work…”

The vampire in the center of the circle was huddled on his knees, face twisted up in agony. Spike’s nostrils flared at the scent of gushing blood, something rare indeed for a creature with no circulation. But this vampire was mutilated enough that circulation wasn’t required for copious bleeding. The minion’s hands were clutched over his crotch, where his member had obviously been completely severed from his body. Also gone were the thumbs on each of his hands and, as he tried to cry out in pain, the source of the blood dripping from his lips also became apparent. Tongue cut out as well.

Buffy’s eyes widened at the mutilations before she belatedly recognized the minion as one of the three that had held Willow down. She turned to look at the redhead, and got an innocent, pixyish smile in response. Buffy caught Cordelia’s eye, and the dark-haired vampiress shrugged. Both their attentions turned back to Willow.

And the enigmatic smile grew into a wicked grin. Oh, vengeance was sweet indeed…

“Save whatever blood you can,” Spike ordered coolly, as if this were an everyday occurrence, “and then toss him out into the morning sun. An act of pity, that.” Turning disinterestedly from the drama before him, his eyes met Willow’s and came to the same conclusion Buffy and Cordelia had. “Come on, pretty poppy,” he cooed, wrapping one arm affectionately around her waist. “Let’s go to bed…”

Buffy felt a momentary pang of jealousy at the favor Willow had just won. But then her eyes alighted on Ivan’s – hidden far at the back of the crowd – and a grin lit up her face. Giving him a falsely benevolent smile and a little wave, she turned to follow Spike.

 _The wave of terror has begun. Soon, you’ll all be begging at my feet for mercy. And you will find none. And once I have put immortal fear into the unbeating hearts of any who dare to cross my sire, I will have him, heart, mind, and demon. Forever…_


	6. Chapter 6

It had been nearly one week after their first victim had been mutilated that the vampiresses alighted on their second. Although not the sort of victim anyone would have predicted, certainly not the three of them.

Buffy had been growing progressively edgier over the week. Spike now had the cure he needed for Dru, and all his impressive focus was centered upon preparing the ritual that was to take place the following Tuesday. The fact that he was missing the key ingredient still left him snappish towards all, including Buffy and even Dru herself.

However, Buffy had never been one to tread lightly, and she insisted on trying to provoke him to come out on the hunt with her. He’d snarled and said no today. Of course, he always snarled and said no. She’d paid him no heed, made a couple of rather inappropriate comments about how he was going soft, and currently had her face pressed into the table by one powerful hand as he plowed into her hard from behind to the obvious amusement and delight of all the other vampires present.

She whimpered slightly and tried to gain purchase so that she could create some friction for her throbbing sex, but he was merciless. He was taking her so hard, she couldn’t tell whether she felt pleasure or pain each time he entered her, and – oh god – it was turning her on like nothing she’d ever felt before.

“Please, Spike,” she gasped out, trying to thrust back against him as his thick cock pierced deep within her once more. The hand forcing down the small of her back kept her from moving an inch to aid in his pleasure or to try to enjoy her own. “Sire…” she whimpered.

The word of submission caused a satisfied growl to rumble through his body, and he pulled back, caught her hips so roughly he left hand-shaped bruises on each side, and buried himself in deep as he came with a roar. She gasped as triumphant fangs pierced the back of her shoulder and savored the moment of double penetration, even if her own body was trapped and helpless from getting off on it.

“ _Mine_ ,” the angry whisper sounded in her ear just as his rapidly re-hardening cock was pulled from her needy body.

“Yours,” she agreed.

“’Bout time you remembered it,” he commented casually, releasing her and fitting his rock-hard erection back into his jeans before zipping up again. The metal teeth rubbed roughly at the oh-so-tender skin and made him want to do nothing more but to hide himself deep within her softness once more. But he had more important matters to attend to. “Consider yourself punished, childe,” he informed her, giving her bare ass cheek a good hard slap before pulling her black miniskirt back down over her behind.

Buffy practically moaned at the torture of it. The ecstasy of having been the object of sweet release for her sire, combined with the agony of the pulsing lust that lanced through her body. At that moment she was almost desperate enough to beg one of the onlookers to finish her off, give her the pleasure her sire had denied her. But not even she would dare allow another vampire inside her right now, not when her sire had just so openly marked her as _his_.

Trying to maintain as much dignity as she could given that she’d just been forcibly fucked in front of the whole clan, she rose on shaky legs and straightened her clothes and her hair, trying to ignore the jolts of need between her thighs as they rubbed together. Throwing two of the watching females a satisfied look – she’d seen most of the males at some point or other by now, and none even came close to her sire in size – she followed after Spike, sparing a small smile for Cordelia who’d waited up for her.

“Why do you provoke him like that all the time?” Cordelia wondered with a roll of her eyes at the blonde’s idiocy.

“What, you don’t enjoy a little discipline every now and then?” Buffy retorted haughtily.

Cordelia shrugged. Willow had gotten her off on the most slow and agonizing orgasm she’d ever experienced last night, but that didn’t mean she liked to hand over what little power she had often. “You’re not helping our cause any,” she retorted. “Getting dominated by Spike twenty-four-seven hardly strikes terror into the hearts of our enemies.”

“Oh, but it makes them even _more_ terrified of Spike, now doesn’t it?” Buffy shot back a bit sullenly. In truth, she did help to affirm his authority by submitting to his punishments so willingly and publicly. However, deep down inside that wasn’t why she provoked him so often. The sad truth was that, as he’d become more preoccupied with Drusilla in the last week, he’d been neglecting her more and more. And this was the simplest way she’d found to get him to touch her regularly and, paradoxically, whenever she wished it.

Cordelia merely gave her a disgusted look and wandered over to where Willow was resting on a beat-up old couch. With a resigned sigh, she accepted Willow’s gesture and slipped into the redhead’s lap, gasping when slim, delicate fingers almost instantly found their way up her skirt and into her slick passage. Just because punishment wasn’t Cordy’s big thing didn’t mean she didn’t get off on seeing Buffy put in her place, after all…

Buffy ignored her two peers and instead turned her attention to where Spike was tenderly stroking Dru’s sleeping forehead. Apparently, Drusilla was having another of her unconscious days. Which actually turned out worse for Buffy. When Dru was awake, Spike tended to be more amenable to taking care of all his girls.

She took the risk and sidled up against him on the bed, though, nuzzling his shoulder affectionately and purring deep in her chest. And, if Spike knew of the cause of her recent disobedience, he showed no signs.

He turned to look at her and smiled, giving her breast a possessive little squeeze that let her know all was forgiven. She was grateful, then, that he was always so lenient with her. Some of the vamps in the clan made their disobedient childer grovel for days or even weeks. Spike usually settled for one quick lesson. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if she were barred from his embrace for long, so she was lucky to have such an unconventional sire.

He sighed and closed his eyes, pulling her tight against him for a second, before releasing her and turning to the assembled members of his little family group. Cordelia’s head was now buried between Willow’s thighs, but the redhead was perfectly capable of listening nonetheless, and she could later give Cordelia any orders she’d missed.

“We’re goin’ after Angel tonight,” he announced simply to the room.

Sayo and her mate, Julien, looked up in startled surprise at that. Willow’s pleasure-filled green eyes snapped open, and Cordelia broke her tempo for an instant before a scrape of Willow’s nails up her cheek put her back to her task.

“There are still two days until the full moon,” Sayo finally commented matter-of-factly.

“’d rather risk holding dear old Angelus all that time than not getting our hands on him in time at all,” Spike countered.

The vampiress bit her lower lip but nodded, gesturing for her mate to do the same.

“You’ll finally let me finish him off?” Buffy purred hopefully, fingers sneaking down into the front of Spike’s jeans.

Absentmindedly, he batted her hand aside and got up. “We need him undead, pet,” he countered, “for the cure. And I don’t want you goin’ in any case. Too much of a risk, that.”

Fury instantly crossed Buffy’s features. “You said we’d defeat him together!” she insisted angrily.

“Planned it that way, too,” he shot back, eyes narrowing at just how quickly she’d forgotten her place once more. “But now Dru needs him, so all other bets are off.”

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but shut it when she saw the stubbornness behind his pale blue eyes. _Drusilla comes first_ , she thought sullenly. _Same as always…_

“Will,” Spike’s attention turned to where Willow lay gasping in completion. Apparently, Cordy had found it prudent to hurry things up this once. “Will, you hearin’ me?”

A faraway look of infinite bliss shone in Willow’s eyes as they dreamily drifted open. “Yeah?” she agreed, obviously still not fully in the present.

“Need you and your girl to act as bait,” he informed her.

“Bait?” Cordelia’s screech hit an ear-piercing decibel, and Spike flinched in response. “Are you _crazy_? Angel’s out to dust us all!”

Spike fixed her with an annoyed look. “Which is why you’re such good bait.” His eyes yellowed, and he approached Cordelia at the last word, catching her under the chin with one sharp claw and forcing her to look up at him.

Buffy watched curiously. From what she knew, he didn’t have a thrall. However, the effects were roughly the same. Cordy merely nodded numbly and acquiesced to his orders. Willow, who was just deranged enough that she actually enjoyed the idea of being bait, didn’t protest in the slightest. That left Buffy alone sullen in her task.

“I can act as bait, too,” she offered hopefully, getting up as well to slip her arms around his waist from behind. “ _I’m_ the one they’re really after, after all. Slayer turned vampire, and all that danger…”

“Danger to you,” Spike retorted, hand coming to rest on where hers was stroking the hardness at the front of his jeans. “Don’t wanna save my sire only to lose my childe.”

She could have sworn she felt her heart beat again in her chest at that. He’d been a bit cagey about his emotions ever since his first admission that he had fallen in love with her. She’d almost feared she’d dreamed the incident. “I can take care of myself,” she insisted, biting the back of his shoulder affectionately and leaving shallow blunt teeth-marks in the fabric of his shirt. “I know how to fight.”

“And that’s what ‘m worried about,” he countered, turning so that they were facing each other for the first time. “You fight like a slayer, luv.”

She pouted. “I _am_ a slayer,” she countered stubbornly.

He shook his head. “Not anymore. Goody two shoes demon’s fled, and you don’t have ‘s strength anymore. Gotta start workin’ with the powers you _do_ have…”

She scowled and pulled away. “Know exactly what I’m doing…” she grumbled under her breath, returning to the bed and sitting next to the sleeping Dru.

He watched her with a sigh but, again, time was pressing. “The rest of you are with me,” he announced. “Figure Shady Hill’s a good place for an ambush. Been losin’ a lot there lately.”

Willow straightened her skirt and led the way out, pausing only briefly to look back at Buffy. For a second, bright green eyes met hazel, and Buffy started in surprise when a pounding voice sounded in her ears. _“He only cares for mommy. You belong with us.”_

Buffy was so shocked she didn’t even notice when the others left. She’d seen Willow reading from the magic books in Dalton’s library, but not even she could’ve guessed that the other vampiress had developed this sort of power. And, with it, she obviously hoped to pull Buffy into her own family group and command her.

Buffy looked down at the sleeping Dru and sighed. It was certainly cause for concern. At this rate, Willow’s powers would soon exceed her own. She’d gotten an early start given that as a slayer she’d had less of an adjustment to her new powers. But, much as she hated to admit it, Spike was right. She’d never really bothered to make the shift and come to fully realize the demon within.

And, if she wanted revenge, power, and her sire’s hand, it was a matter she’d have to tend to immediately…

* * *

The night was still, dark outlines of the trees back-lit by the waxing moon as it approached full. A perfect night for nocturnal hunters. And the woman walking quickly and nervously up the street on the northern edge of Shady Hill Cemetery knew this only too well.

Hands buried deep in the pockets of her jacket, she pulled the fabric around her as if hoping it would protect her from the evils of the night. Pace quickening, she rounded the corner…

And screeched when she crashed right into a young man with the build of a linebacker.

“Whoa, take it easy!” he assured her, jumping a bit himself in surprise at encountering her so suddenly. He could feel his heart racing and the adrenaline surging through his veins. Half the fun of his little night walks.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Sorry,” she smiled up at him, fluttering long dark eyelashes. “I’m a bit jumpy.”

“Alone at night?” he agreed, grinning as he took in her elegant dark beauty. “I can believe it.” She moved to go on, and he switched directions, coming to walk beside her. “You mind if I walk you home?” he offered. “Just to be safe…”

She paused for a second before smiling in agreement. “Thanks.”

Stride easily matching her shorter one, he set a comfortable pace beside her. “Jake,” he offered.

“Cordelia,” she smiled back brightly.

“You go to UC Sunnydale?”

“Sunnydale High, actually,” she lied only slightly.

If their age difference bothered him, he didn’t show it. “You a senior?”

“Junior.” _You cradle-robbing creep_ , she added mentally. No matter that Spike was a century older than her, at least _he_ didn’t mistake her for an innocent schoolgirl.

“Say,” he began, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in coming to a party at my dorm…”

Cordy smiled. Fast movers always made the easiest kills. “Sounds all right,” she commented, affecting the haughty aloofness that had served her so well in life.

“Cool,” he agreed with a grin. “Give us a chance to…get to know each other better…” His voice dropped to a suggestive tone at this last part, and his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against her behind.

She gave him a flirtatious look and stopped, pulling him to a halt beside her. “Why wait?” she asked coyly.

He grinned and…

“The answer to that,” a voice sounded from behind them, “is that you really don’t feel like becoming a Human McNugget.”

Cordelia spun in surprise to see Xander, a cross held before him. Instinctively, she flinched away from the object, and he took advantage of the opportunity to grab Jake’s arm and pull him to safety. The college student was sputtering with indignation at this turn of events, until Cordy vamped out and flashed her fangs at Xander angrily. That convinced her prey right away that, yes, his life had most certainly just been saved.

“Jealous?” she demanded peevishly of Xander, circling the two men slowly and hoping for an opening.

“Oh yeah,” he retorted, turning as well and keeping the cross firmly between them, “it’s my life’s ambition to be turned into the evil undead.”

She gave him a seductive smile. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she pressed. “All the hidden pleasures…” One hand stroked sensuously down the side of her neck and over the swell of her breast.

He gulped and tried his hardest not to be turned on. He knew full well that she was a vampire, but she still looked and talked like the woman he’d fantasized about for so many nights. “An eternity of putting up with your attitude?” he retorted sarcastically. “Just what I’ve always wanted…”

Cordelia’s lips quirked, apparently at their banter. But what he couldn’t see was that Willow had just emerged from the shadows behind him and was closing in. “Oh, you know you want it,” she countered with a haughty flip of her hair. “Poor little Xander Harris…”

“Rich bitch Cordelia Chase,” he shot back, fighting the immature impulse to stick his tongue out at her. Instead, he waved the cross in her face.

She rolled her eyes and looked at her fingernails, unconcerned. And Willow’s hand reached out and…

“Behind you.” The words were casual, emotionless in tone.

Xander spun around just in time and drove Willow back with a hiss. Cordelia immediately advanced, but Xander turned back in time, backing away until he and Jake had the cemetery wall safely behind them, the cross now able to fend off both vampiresses.

But no one was paying attention to Xander’s actions at the moment.

“Angel,” Willow breathed with girlish glee, hands clasped behind her back as she affected an innocent look and moved in closer to him.

Instantly, there was a stake in his hand, halting her wide-eyed in her tracks.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” he informed her, moving in for the kill.

Cordelia let out a gasp of exasperation. “How’s she going to do that, exactly, if she’d dust?” she demanded sarcastically.

Angel frowned at that.

“Hello, people?” she exclaimed in disgust, throwing up her hands.

Angel didn’t miss that she was circling him, however, the two vampiresses fanning out in an effort to surround him. “I’ve got to warn you,” he commented dryly, “this isn’t one of your best ideas…”

“I think it’s a simply _marvelous_ idea,” Willow giggled, spinning in a little pirouette.

“And that just confirms the rumors that you’re deranged,” Angel shot back, body tensed as he prepared for the fight.

Xander stepped forward as well, cross bared and a thoroughly terrified Jake just behind him. “I’m sorry about this.” He gave them both an apologetic, almost pained, look. “But Will and Cordy would want—”

“We _are_ Willow and Cordy,” Cordelia snapped at him, annoyed, eyes yellowed in rage.

He shook his head in response. “Y-You’re outnumbered. Just make this quick and easy. _Please_ …”

Willow was about to comment on his math skills when she spotted Giles behind Cordelia, crossbow in hand. She cried out in alarm, and Cordelia ducked just in time so that the wooden bolt lodged in her shoulder, instead of her heart.

Angel dove for Willow at that same moment, and that was when the trap snapped into place…

* * *

 _Think like a vampire._

It wasn’t as easy a task as it sounded. Buffy walked out into the main hallway, saw a dozen or so vamps already back from the nightly hunt, and couldn’t help but think for one fraction of an instant that she could take them all single-handed. Her defeat at the hands of Ivan had proven her wrong, however, and she was grateful that he wasn’t present when she chose to test her limits.

Her other attacker was, however.

He was just as unattractive and greasy as she’d remembered and, as she approached, he gave her a lopsided grin. Obviously not much on brains.

Buffy bit down her initial reaction to take him on in front of the crowd. It would do wonders for her reputation, sure, but she had to remember that as a demon now, her strength lay solely in her age. And she was the youngest vampire present. Instead, she’d have to go to her other strengths…

“Good hunt?” she inquired casually, leaning back against the wall with a languid sexuality that would drive any man – human and vampire, alike – mad with desire.

His sloppy grin widened. “Three middle-schoolers.”

She sighed nostalgically. “I’m not allowed on the hunt tonight, you know.” She jutted out her lower lip. “Sire’s orders…”

“That’s rough,” he agreed, approaching her and sniffing the air above her cheek. Spike’s claim was still stifling in its power, but it wasn’t every day this pretty little childe paid the minions any heed.

Buffy yawned and scanned the disinterested crowd. Good. A clean kill. “I’m bored,” she informed him, moving away.

He paused for a moment, pondering whether to grab her and force her to stay. Her next words made his decision moot, however.

“Wanna fuck?” She inclined her head in the direction of one of the spare, empty rooms.

Grinning idiotically, he followed after.

A slow smile crept upon Buffy’s face as well. _Angelus isn’t the only traitor who will suffer for his crimes tonight…_


	7. Chapter 7

Angel dove for Willow, just as he was tackled from the side. A belated sense of warning informed him that he latest opponent was the one vampire he’d been hoping to avoid for as long as possible.

“Spike,” he hissed, eyes narrowed, backing off to circle back around and find his opening.

“Fancy meetin’ you, mate,” Spike retorted cheekily, seeming completely unconcerned by Angel’s threatening growl. “Just when I was plannin’ on draining you dry, too.”

“You always were a bit of a foolish optimist,” Angel shot back. “‘Oh, of course, Dru loves me.’ ‘I can defeat Angelus.’ ‘I’m not just a pathetic little wanna-be that can’t—’”

Angel’s little parody was cut short by a furious roar from Spike, and soon the two older vampires were tangled in a furious fight on the ground.

Julien, meanwhile, had burst in on the scene just in time to rip the crossbow from Giles’ hands before the watcher had a chance to fire again on Cordelia. Giles’ hand went to his pocket in response, and Julien cried out in pain when the vial of holy water smashed open against his chest.  Skin on his face and arms sizzling as if it had been drowned in acid, he slumped to the ground.

His distraction had given Sayo the opportunity she needed to knock the cross from the otherwise-defenseless Xander’s hands, however. Jake immediately tried to bolt, and she took off after him, tackling her prey after only a few feet.

Xander, smart enough to realize that running would just leave him more defenseless, stood his ground. He gulped at the wicked grin on Cordy’s face, and suddenly saw his life flashing before his eyes. “Y-You really don’t want to…” he began nervously.

“Oh, but I do,” she sighed wistfully, catching his wrists in her powerful grip and forcing them back against the cemetery wall behind him. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Xander…” she whispered against his neck, lips playing lightly across the pounding pulse-point.

He shivered both out of fear and desire, and in that one moment all the horror of his friends’ deaths came over him at once, and he wondered… _Why fight it? At least there’ll be no more pain…_

“Xander!” Giles cried out in alarm, only to be halted in his tracks by a maniacally grinning Willow.

Too late Xander remembered that there was one last moment of pain, indeed. Cordelia’s razor-sharp fangs pierced his jugular, and for an instant white-hot pain lanced through his body before, slowly, it all fell away and…bliss…

* * *

“So, heh-heh, I’m Lonnie…” Buffy’s hopefully soon-to-be victim offered.

She smiled a wicked smile and shut the door behind them. “Buffy,” she countered, grabbing hold of the horrible plaid shirt he wore and pulling him in. “But then you already knew that.” Her fingers found the buttons but, rather than unfastening them, she ripped the fabric in two. She stepped back to consider the effect, hid how deeply unimpressed she was, and slipped her fingers under the straps of her dress. The black satin fabric slid off, leaving her completely nude before him.

“R-Right,” he agreed over-eagerly, obviously delighted by this turn of events. Not surprising since his singularly unspectacular looks and intelligence hadn’t earned him any regular bedmates in the clan. That this golden goddess wanted him was a dream come true.

Buffy sat down on the edge of the mattress and watched her victim incredulously. Oh god, she wasn’t going to have to him directions on what to do, was she? Fortunately, his dick seemed to have figured out at least part of the equation, and he finally guessed that taking his pants off might be a good next step.

She tried not to roll her eyes as he stumbled clumsily when his pants caught on his boots, that damn idiotic grin never leaving his face. She was tempted to finish him off right there with his pants wrapped around his ankles. _No risks, no chances_ , the voice in the back of her head insisted. _You’re going to make this a clean kill. And, maybe get yourself a bit of pleasure out of the stooge, if he even has the common sense to know where to put it…_

“C’mere, handsome,” she purred seductively, sliding up the bed. She had to forcibly stop herself from laughing at the ridiculous appellation attached to this moron.

Excited now, he ran over to the bed, stumbling over his own clumsy feet until he feel onto the end of the mattress. She gave him a disbelieving look, and then tried to make her expression look turned-on. She doubted the oaf would even notice, however.

“You’re pretty,” he informed her, scootching up the bed so that he was beside her.

Buffy got a good look at his erection and tried to bite back her disappointment. Ah well, he was no Spike, but he’d have to do… “Not bad yourself, luv,” she purred, unconsciously mimicking Spike’s habit of pet names.

“Y’know,” he sidled up against her, “I was worried there for a while. After Derek got it, I mean. Everyone says it was Willow, and…” He gulped.

“What?” She draped her body over his, savoring the feel of having this male entirely at her mercy, even if he wasn’t the one she really wanted. At least not as a sex toy… “You were afraid I’d come after you, too?” She tisked lightly.

He laughed at the apparent absurdity of the notion and moved to cover her body with his. She stayed his motions, however.

“I wanna see you,” she whispered huskily against his ear, pushing him back. “Let me show you the time of your life…”

A broken purr sounded through his chest in response, and he let her climb on top of him. With a coy smile, she caught each of his wandering hands and held them up over his head. The tip of his erection rubbed against her inner thigh, but she ignored it for the moment.

“Do you trust me?” she asked slyly.

He smiled languidly in response. “Sure, babe.”

She grinned and reached over to the bag Spike had discarded in this room earlier for another purpose. Her hand emerged with a pair of silver handcuffs. He just gave her that goofy grin as she shackled him in place, obviously thinking he was in for the lay of his life.

A surge of triumph ran through her veins when she’d finally chained him up. What he had no way of knowing, of course, was that the cuffs were Spike’s special pair of magically enhanced ones. He only thought he was sexplay-trapped; she knew he couldn’t get out unless he gnawed through his wrists. Wicked delight filled her at the notion.

But there was no need to play her hand just yet…

“Do you know all the things I could do to you?” she whispered seductively, fingers tracing over his beefy torso. “All the _wonderful_ things Spike’s taught me how to do?” She leaned in so that her cool breath brushed against his ear. “A hundred years of _experience_ , and I know it all…” Her fingers reached the rough hairs surrounding his erection.

“Yes…” he hissed in delight.

Buffy grinned wickedly.

And he screamed out in pain and horror.

* * *

Giles did the only possible thing in his situation; he ran.

Spike’s struggle with Angel had provided a distraction for all of Spike’s allies, and it gave Giles the few moments head start he needed. He hated himself inwardly for turning his back on Xander and Angel, but he knew only too well that Xander was gone by now and Angel… Angel wasn’t a living being.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest and was just fighting back the first gasps of fatigue when he heard Willow’s cry of outrage. The chase was on.

Not foolish enough to believe that he could outrun the vampiress for even a moment, he leapt over the fence to the nearest front yard in a move that would inevitably cause a backache for weeks to come. Fear and anger gave him extra strength and stamina, it seemed, and he reached the door to the anonymous house safely, banged on it twice, and then stepped back to kick the lock in with every fiber of force in his being. 

Miraculously, on the second kick, the lock gave in, and he collapsed panting over the threshold. Willow circled the rim on the recently turned on porch light warily, gold-hot anger burning in her eyes that yet another prey had escaped.

After only a moment, however, she turned back to where they had left the others, apparently perceiving some signal beyond his senses. Giles took one moment of stunned relief, waving off the agitated cries of the woman whose house he had invaded, before a newfound grief struck him. Angel and Xander gone now. All his students taken by demonic forces. And the most painful outcome he had never even feared to imagine…  
   
 

Willow returned just in time to see Spike and a badly burned Julien finally pin Angel to the ground. A laugh of triumph escaped Spike’s lips, and he quickly sunk his teeth into his subdued grandsire, draining off the older vampire’s strength. She ventured closer, and Spike waved in her in, allowing her to share in his hunt.

Angel fixed her with sullen eyes as she approached, and she patted him condescendingly on the cheek – avoiding the snap of razor-sharp fangs – before she set in to savor the intoxicating taste of two-hundred-year-old blood.

After only a few minutes, Angel finally passed out, and Spike halted Willow’s feeding. “Need some of that blood for Tuesday.”

She grinned, the crimson droplets on her lips looking black in the moonlight. “And then we get mommy back,” she giggled excitedly.

Spike nodded, keeping careful eye on Angel’s seemingly unconscious form and one knee pressed deep into his captive’s back. Not worth taking any risks now that he was so close to getting his Dru back. “The watcher got away?” he inquired curiously.

Willow instantly pouted. “Always was a smart old man…” She trailed off, and a wicked smile curved her lips. “Just _imagine_ what sort of a vampire he’d make…” She sighed wistfully.

“We’re lucky they haven’t come down on us for havin’ a vamped slayer,” he countered. “Don’t need a watcher to add to the vamp-hunt.”

Willow sulked that her idea had been turned down, attention drifting to where Cordy now lay atop Xander sprawled across the ground. “We pixies have a new boy,” she sing-songed, correctly guessing that Cordelia had fed Xander her life essence.

Spike glanced over, first to make sure that Julien was feeding properly from where he and Sayo held Jake captive, and then to the dark-haired vampiress and her newest childe. “Bugger.”

Willow turned back to look at him, surprised at that.

“She’ll be weak for a coupla days now,” he provided, catching Sayo’s eye and gesturing for her to come over.

“You weren’t weaker,” Willow seemed alarmed by Cordy’s semi-impaired status. Indeed, the brunette had now fallen asleep, resting on Xander’s corpse.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t fool enough to try to vamp me a mate when I was all of two months old,” he shot back.

Willow frowned even further at the word ‘mate’, calculations and power plays running carefully through her head as she incorporated this latest member of their family into her plans.

“Go over and wake her up,” Spike ordered. “The two of you can get the boy back to the warehouse before dawn.”

Willow grimaced at the task of dragging Xander’s inert form and Cordelia’s semi-conscious one all that way. But even she wasn’t crazy enough to complain at Spike’s orders. Especially not when something so close to his heart as Drusilla was at stake.

“He is unconscious?” Sayo approached Spike and Angel just as Willow left.

“If he’s not, he’s sure playin’ one helluva long game of ‘possum,” Spike countered. “You got the chains?”

Sayo held up the bag she’d brought with her before deftly pulling several chains of linked iron from it. Without needing instruction, she locked Angel up securely while Spike held him down. “These will hold if he wakes up?” she asked skeptically.

“Dalton fixed ‘em up,” Spike countered, finally getting up off of Angel’s back. To his relief, Angel didn’t stir in the slightest in response. Looked like he was out for the count. “And with three of us on guard…”

Sayo nodded and looked around furtively. The holy water burns across Julien’s flesh had gone down with the healing power of the human boy’s blood, and she sensed no ambush nearby.

“But we’d best clear out quickly,” Spike agreed with her assessment. “Not a time for risks…”

* * *

Buffy looked up, fangs dripping blood as the door opened. Beneath her, a lacerated Lonnie whimpered pathetically. No help lay on the other side, however.

Drusilla blinked owlishly, as if the candlelight were painful to her sensitive eyes. “All the people out here,” she drolled, tilting her head in a dreamlike way, “are hearing such bloody screams…” She trailed off and looked back over her shoulder at the crowd. “Silly kittens afraid to check if the milk dish is full…”

Buffy sighed. She didn’t need this right now. “Dru,” she informed her grandsire tersely, “you’re supposed to stay in bed.”

“I want to stay up until daddy gets home,” Dru pouted, her voice sounding more childlike than her usual ramblings.

Buffy had long since learned it was a sign that her elder wasn’t feeling well. With a long-suffering sigh, she caved in. “Stay here with me, then,” she suggested. “There’s plenty of space to lie down.” In truth, blood stained the mattress cover, but then that was all the more of an attraction to a vampire.

Drusilla let out a girlish giggle and drifted into the room, arms waving about in a serpentine dance. In the hallway, a few curious heads dared to peek in to see what was happening within to cause such bloodcurdling screams. They got one look at the bloody bed before an equally bloody naked Buffy got up and slammed the door in their faces.

She could hear nervous whispers on the other side of the door but paid them no heed. “How are you feeling today?” she asked Dru casually as she made her way back to her victim.

Drusilla shrugged and yawned. “Daddy will make it all better soon.” She lay her head down on the pillow, face less than a foot away from Lonnie’s pain-contorted one.

“Spike should be back soon,” Buffy promised, lifting up her whip once more and fondling it gently in her hand.

Dru giggled. “Not _that_ daddy,” she chided.

Buffy’s eyebrow quirked at that. “Spike’s got Angel?” she asked curiously.

“Make naughty daddy pay for everything he’s done to me,” Dru agreed darkly.

Buffy nodded and caught Lonnie’s bleeding member in her razor-sharp nails once more. He cried out in agony immediately in response.

“Boy’s a screamer,” Drusilla noted with disinterest, watching Buffy work. “The balls are just as sensitive,” she added her advice.

Buffy grinned when Drusilla’s words turned out to be true. Her attention turned back to her victim. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve had to put up with jerks like you?” she informed him in a deceptively pleasant voice, slicing and constricting his flesh. “Arrogant, self-centered creatures that look at me and only see a cheap fuck?”

He whimpered in something she guessed was supposed to be denial that he had ever looked at her in any such way.

“Did you really think I would let you off? That I would _forgive_ something like this?” she asked nastily. “It’s men like you that make a girl’s life so difficult, so miserable…” Her grip tightened.

Drusilla smiled at the bloodcurdling cry. “What’d the silly boy do?” she inquired curiously.

A wicked smile curled Buffy’s lips. “Tried to take the power from me…”

* * *

Spike finally arrived back home to find a very anxious audience chamber. Sayo and Julien followed behind him, a slumped unconscious Angel supported between them, but not even this new captive drew attention away from the nervous gossip spreading through the minions.

“Oi,” Spike protested, catching the nearest vamp by the scruff of the neck, “what happened?”

The poor yearling promptly began stuttering horribly, shaking convulsively the entire time. Spike rolled his eyes and threw the vamp down onto the floor.

“What’s goin’ on?” he finally bellowed angrily to the room.

“Lonnie and Ryan got it,” giggled an excited female.

“She’s like a black-widow,” a dorky looking male agreed. “She draws them in to mate with her and then sucks them dry!”

Spike gave nerd-vamp an incredulous look. “Who turns these wankers?” he asked Sayo rhetorically.

She just shook her head, equally dumbfounded.

Giving up on getting any sense out of these idiots, Spike hastened to the room he’d set up for Angel’s capture, opened the door and… If he’d had breath, it would’ve been taken away at the sight before him.

His golden and black goddesses lay stretched out across the bed, both blood-spattered and sleeping contentedly in each other’s arms. Buffy was completely naked, and dark red stained her skin, looking like arcane sex-magic written across her supple flesh. His body instantly hardened at the sight, and a growl grumbled deep in his chest.

She stirred in response and smiled up at him through lazy eyelids. “I tortured and staked the last man I caught looking at me like that, you know,” she informed him, spreading her thighs slightly in invitation.

“Been havin’ a bit of fun without me, I see,” he replied, rolling his duster back off his shoulders before he approached the deathbed.

“Had to show those losers that no one touches me but you,” she agreed, holding out one hand to him in invitation.

Almost mesmerized, he approached the wicked mistress he’d created…

A cough broke the silence of the room.

Buffy’s attention turned to Sayo, Julien, and Angel for the first time. “Hey, Dru was right. You got him.”

Spike’s eyebrow quirked upward. “Dru was awake?” he asked hopefully.

“She gave me pointers,” Buffy agreed with a grin.

He practically moaned at the carnage he’d missed. Not that he wouldn’t stay to enjoy the aftereffects. “Chain him to the bed,” he instructed the vampire pair holding Angel.

They exchanged a shrug and moved to do so, Buffy aiding them with the manacles. She gave Angel a dark look that sent little tingles of pleasure up and down Spike’s spine. _His_ girl. Not Angel’s anymore or anyone else’s. Slowly and deliberately he disrobed, catching Buffy’s eye as he did so. She smiled and licked her lips as his naked body was exposed to her hungry eyes.

“You don’t need us for anything else?” Sayo questioned once Angel was secured to the bed.

“Go on,” Spike agreed. “And if you need more blood tonight, there’s probably a bit left in Cordelia’s new boy.”

They nodded and left.

Buffy was curious at this last fact, however. “New boy?”

“That school chum of yours she was pinin’ away after,” he provided, putting one knee on the end of the bed and prowling up her body in a seductive crawl that had her shivering in anticipation.

“Vamp!Xander?” she asked curiously. “That’s gonna be…interesting…”

“Not half as interestin’ as what’s been happening here tonight, ‘d wager,” he countered, hands running up and down her bare curves.

She purred in delight and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in so close it was practically torture. “Just a little experimentation,” she countered, fingers trailing up and down the sharp edge on his cheekbone. “You know, being a slayer and a vamp aren’t so different, after all.”

“Oh?” His lips were on her throat now, teasing the scar where he’d made her his. She squirmed and her wet core pressed up against his throbbing cock enticingly, but he denied her for the moment.

“Yeah,” she finally answered, hands roaming his body possessively, scratching lightly and claiming his flesh for as long as he’d let her. “Cleverness is more important than strength, you use every talent at your disposal, and…”

He thrust inside her hard. “My wicked vixen…”

She gasped in delight and completion as their bodies fit together perfectly once more. “A-And now I can finally use all that power the way it should be used,” she concluded, sounding unnecessarily breathless as he began stroking his cock deep inside of her.

“Make ‘em bleed,” he purred appreciatively, grabbing her hips roughly and pushing in ever harder and faster.

“Never have to let off on the jerks who deserve it ever again,” she whimpered in agreement. “And all thanks to you…”

And then his mouth was upon hers, and their bodies were writhing together in blood and pleasure, and the time for talking was over.

And, hours later, when Angel awoke to the sight of a bloody and naked Buffy riding Spike like her sire was her everything, he knew he was well and truly in hell…

* * *

“I-I can’t do it anymore,” Giles insisted shakily, fighting back the edges of tears from his voice. The teacup clattered in its platter in his hand, and he hastily set in back down on the coffee table.

Joyce wanted to offer her sympathy, but she was feeling choked up as well. Poor Xander, lost to them now, too. It was all just more of a horror than she ever could’ve imagined. And she _still_ couldn’t quite comprehend that her daughter was really gone to her now…

“I’m afraid there is nothing more I can do,” Giles continued, voice still shaky but more composed now. “I am incapable of defeating Spike’s gang without assistance and – if our reports on the ritual to take place this Tuesday are correct – then Angel will not long outlive Xander.”

Joyce managed a weak nod. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” she dared to suggest, “the more we get tied up in this, the worse—”

Her words were cut off when the door to Giles’ apartment suddenly opened, however.

The two humans turned in surprise to see a young woman of stocky, strong build standing in the doorway, proud black features looking down on them suspiciously.

“I am looking for Mister Giles,” she spoke in clear, heavily-accented English. Her accent was exotic, Jamaican perhaps or some other Caribbean dialect. And it was clear that, while English wasn’t her first language, she’d had a very precise teacher.

Giles blinked and rose, not sure what to make of this turn of events. “I am Rupert Giles,” he informed her.

She relaxed slightly in response but kept one eye on Joyce. “Who is she?”

“I think,” Giles countered, “that a better question would be, who are you? Seeing as you’ve chosen to break into my home and all.”

The intruder bit her lip, nervously considering Joyce’s presence before she finally decided that answering a watcher’s direct question was more important than maintaining her secret identity.

“I am Kendra,” she announced, “the vampire slayer. And I have come to help…”


	8. Chapter 8

“It’s all just a fantasy, you know.”

The words were definitely not what Buffy wanted to hear the first thing after she woke up in the morning. She blinked groggily, still twinned intimately with Spike’s body and tried to make sense of the fact that Angel sat to the side of the bed.

“Huh?” she wondered eloquently.

“All this.” He gestured as best he could with the magical chains weighing his wrists down. “It’s all the fantasy. Everything you think you feel, you want, you enjoy. None of it’s real.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, and she pointedly turned away, burying her face in the smooth muscles of Spike’s chest.

“Oh, you _think_ you love him,” Angel went on, “but it’s not really love. You have to know that. You felt _real_ love when you were a human; you know what it is. And a demon can’t feel anything like that.”

“You’re wrong,” she muttered sullenly. “I love him more than I ever loved you.”

Momentary hurt flashed on Angel’s face before he reminded himself that this wasn’t really Buffy. “He’s your sire,” he corrected. “Your demon’s forcing you to submit to him. It’s drawn to him. But you – the real you – don’t feel a thing for him. It’s all just an illusion, a farce.” A pause. “And he certainly doesn’t love you back.”

“Stop it!” she snapped angrily, yellow eyes blazing.

He managed a rueful laugh. “You honestly think he cares about you?” he retorted coldly. “You’re been reduced to a cheap sex-slave, his personal servant. And if something happens to you, he’ll just find himself another bedmate without a second thought.”

“I’m his _childe_!” Buffy hissed vehemently.

“Right.” Angel gave her an incredulous look. “You know that feeling inside you where you think that making him happy will make you happy? It’s just a control mechanism. Brainwashing to make you do whatever he wants. _That’s_ what being a childe means.”

Buffy snapped at that, and one clawed hand lashed out to leave five sharp slashes across his cheek. 

Angel was unperturbed by her rage. “You think I’m scared of you? You’re _nothing_ to a vampire as old as I am. Or even to one as old as Spike. You’re just a passing fancy, and all that freedom you think you’ve won yourself doesn’t mean a thing. You’re even _more_ of a slave now, and you’ll most likely end up dead within a year anyway.”

The growl sounding in Buffy’s chest grew in intensity before abruptly trailing off. She tilted her head to one side of study him for a second before a giggle escaped her mouth. “You’re jealous,” she finally accused in delight.

“Of Spike?” Angel scoffed. “Hardly.”

“You are,” she teased in a jokingly flirtatious way that seemed downright sinister to him now. “Spike took away your poor, innocent Buffy.” She mock-pouted. “No more little martyr for you to worship on a pedestal.” She giggled. “And now you have to learn that your precious girl wasn’t as holier-than-thou as you thought. Truth is…” She leaned in with a nasty smile. “When Spike turned me, I _wanted_ it. I wanted him even when I was a human, a slayer.” Her smile widened when she saw that she’d struck a nerve. “Guess I had this kink about vampires, and Spike wasn’t so chicken as to run out on me.”

“And look where it got you,” Angel grumbled sullenly, almost to himself.

“In the arms of a man I _really_ love,” she agreed. “One who understands me and doesn’t judge me…”

“You’ve known him all of two months,” Angel rolled his eyes.

“And that’s all it took for me to know,” she countered. “We just…” she snapped her fingers in his face, “…clicked right away. He knows things about me I would never have shared with you, not in a million years.”

“You’re not Buffy,” Angel insisted firmly.

“Oh, but I am,” she retorted. “Everything important that made me Buffy is still here, just unshackled for the first time.” She studied him for a moment. “And, deep down, you know that, don’t you? And that’s why it’s killing you…” She slid down Spike’s body and flicked out her tongue to swirl it around the softened cock she found there. Wicked smiling eyes looked up at Angel as Spike hardened against her mouth. “…That _your_ Buffy is doing this willingly, and she _loves_ it…”

Angel’s eyes clouded over with pain at that, and he looked away.

Buffy paid him no heed, however. She had more important matters to attend to. Spike was now firm and rising against her cheek. She watched him, almost mesmerized by his beauty, licking and sucking occasionally until he was fully erect.

He stirred from his sleep in response, and she crawled seductively up his body, greeted him the instant his eyes fluttered open with a tender kiss to the lips. He smiled slowly in response, breathing deep of the perfume of her hair.

“My slayer…” he purred, arms slipping around her waist.

“I love you,” she whispered passionately in his ear.

The seeming desperation in her words and actions wasn’t lost on him, and he fixed Angel with a dark, suspicious look before turning his attention back to his girl. “Love you so much, Buffy,” he assured her with equal fervor, rolling them over so that she was beneath him…and also so that her view of Angel was blocked and he could look triumphantly into his grandsire’s eyes.

She whimpered as his hands explored her reverently. Whatever heaven was like, it couldn’t possibly be anywhere near this good. Her hands found the firm cheeks of his ass, and she squeezed them gently the way he liked, urging him on.

“So beautiful,” he murmured softly against the flesh of her breast right before he engulfed it, “so perfect…”

Her feet rubbed sensuously against his muscular shins, and her hands pushed him against her waiting sex more frantically. Head thrown back in complete ecstasy, she whimpered his name like a prayer until even words themselves failed her, and she could do nothing but moan.

“Gonna make love to you,” he promised huskily, lips leaving her breasts to trail up her throat. His hands began kneading the pliant flesh his mouth that just abandoned. “Gonna show you how much you mean to me…”

“Please…” she whimpered, pulling him down to her now, legs trying to find purchase around his waist.

“Don’t hafta beg,” he assured her, throwing Angel a victorious glance. “Gonna make my Golden Goddess feel so good…” One hand caught behind her knee then, spreading her further for him as he took his position at her opening. He gently nuzzled her face, encouraging her to look directly into his eyes as he entered her.

Blue met hazel for one moment, before both widened at each slow thrust of his cock within her. Inch by agonizing inch he pushed deeper until she thought she couldn’t possibly go any farther. And then, with one final push, he was fully inside, and the both gasped in blissful completion.

“Love you,” he whispered against her lips before claiming them.

“Love you, love you, love you, love you, love you…” Little echoes of those words slipped from their lips between soft kisses to the point where neither knew who was saying them anymore. Their bodies rocked slowly, each letting their steady breaths control the pace of their lovemaking. Neither needed to breathe, of course, but even Buffy had learned on her first night of unlife that it enhanced the sexual experience.

Angel, completely forgotten as sire and childe wrapped themselves in each other, found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spectacle on the bed. His continued mantra of _‘It’s not really Buffy’_ was falling short for the first time as he watched the obvious love between the two vampires during their mating.

However, Angel wasn’t the only spectator. On the other side of the bed, Drusilla slowly rose, a look of wide-eyed awe on her face as she watched her childer consummate their love for each other. She saw Angel chained to the ground on the far side of the bed and gave him a little wink.

“So beautiful, aren’t they?” she cooed dreamily, fingers following the strong lines of Spike’s back as he moved within Buffy. But she always kept a good inch above his actual flesh, teasing herself with illusion of stroking that hard masculine body before her.

Angel merely grunted sullenly.

“Even more beautiful together,” she continued, unperturbed by her audience’s unresponsiveness. A faraway look entered her eyes, and a wistful sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve never been able to watch him like this, you know,” she informed Angel, who was still doing his best not to listen – both to her words and to the whispers of devotion passed between the blond pair. “No mirrors to watch him as he made love to me…” Her hand came to rest gently on the small of Spike’s back for the first time, and if he noticed her presence he showed no sign. “We tried videotaping, but it’s not the same as live. And I’ve watched him fuck many a pretty thing but…” an awed whisper entered her voice, “never seen how beautiful he is making love…”

Disgusted by them all, Angel turned pointedly away at that. What he really hated, though, was the part of himself that was turned on by watching Spike take Buffy. He forced the emotions down, insisting that he was no longer that monster that had started this twisted vampire line in the first place.

Oblivious to all that was happening around them, Buffy and Spike slowly reached their completion, mouths and sexes fussed as the waves of pleasure slowly rose higher, riding the crest together in ecstasy before they crashed back downward, bodies clinging tightly together.

Drusilla watched them collapse, spent, with a wistful expression and continued to pet Spike’s back as she would a cat. “So beautiful together,” she repeated in a whisper so soft it could almost have been mistaken for an echo of her previous words. “If only I had an eternity to watch you together…”

Spike’s muscles tensed and then relaxed against her fingertips, and she knew he’d finally realized her presence. “’Morning, pet,” he commented before returning to where Buffy was still in a blissful, post-orgasmic haze and slowly kissing her back to reality.

She smiled and murmured contentedly, watching him with lazy satisfaction as he finally slipped from her body and sat up. “You make me feel so good,” she informed him, reaching for his hand.

He watched, fascinated, as their fingers twined together. Such a delicate creature, yet so much power hidden within her. He couldn’t wait to fully explore her, discover every dark and sweet secret buried deep inside…

His musings were disturbed by a soft nuzzle to his shoulder. He looked in surprise to see that Drusilla was curled up against him. A momentary grin crossed his features that his sire was awake and apparently feeling rather well this morning. However, as her lips traveled up his shoulder and neck, for the first time ever he hesitated with her. It just didn’t seem right to turn so quickly away from Buffy after the power of what they’d just experienced…

Buffy saw the moment’s hesitation, and it sent a giddy little thrill down her spine. And she felt so contented and loved at that moment that she just smiled softly and guided their join hands over to where Drusilla’s hand rested on his hipbone.

He flashed her a surprised smile before taking his sire into his arms and greeting her with a toe-curling kiss. Buffy watched them embrace, Spike still between her spread thighs and his re-hardening cock slick with their combined cum. Such a perfect body and…well, not all hers. But half hers.

“Maybe you think you love him,” Angel’s voice intruded one last time, “but I bet you didn’t see _her_ as part of the picture.”

Buffy’s smile flickered for one second, and she shot him an angry look.

“He’ll never stop loving her, you know,” Angel continued to prod his captors.

“Never stop lovin’ _either_ of them,” Spike cut in angrily.

Dru’s eyes narrowed at her souled sire as well. “Naughty, tricky boy is trying to drive a wedge between us,” she tisked. “Foolish Angel, never did understand…”

Buffy rose and curled up against Spike’s other side, taking comfort in his strength and the devotion of his words. “He thinks he can win me back to his side, save his own hide,” she insisted.

Spike’s scarred eyebrow rose. “You’ve got one day left, mate,” he said tersely. “You need better entertainment, ‘ll be happy to provide you…” The dim light glinted off his teeth.

“Ooh! Let me!” Drusilla clapped merrily. “Let me have him aaall alone, to myself,” she drawled contentedly.

Spike frowned at that, and Buffy’s curiosity rose. “Not sure that’s such a good idea, luv,” he countered.

Drusilla’s lower lip jutted out in a pout. “A special treat for daddy’s sick princess?” she pleaded.

“Yeah, _William_ ,” Angel taunted. “Leave us alone. Not afraid you can’t trust your mate, are you?”

Spike’s jaw ticked with rage. “Not worried in the slightest, you ponce,” he countered with more confidence than he actually felt. “He’s all yours, pet.” With a purr, he leaned in for one last kiss, but Dru was already playing with her new toy, razor-sharp nails twined in Angel’s hair, slicing into his scalp as she yanked back hard.

“Bad, bad daddy,” she scolded.

Buffy watched the anxious look on Spike’s face and, with a soft smile, handed him his jeans. They exchanged a look, then, and Buffy realized for the first time that he knew exactly what she was going through. It had never occurred to her before that she wasn’t the only one who had difficulties sharing her sire’s attentions. A wave of tenderness passed over her as she dressed, and suddenly she knew she loved him even more.

“Let’s go meet our newest family member,” she urged, pulling him still only partially clothed along with her. “Dru knows what she’s doing.”

The dark-haired vampiress grinned in agreement with that.

“Yeah, Spike,” Angel sent out one last barb, “we both know I’m in _good_ hands…”

Spike scowled, and Buffy yanked on his wrist, pulling him away from what was fast becoming one of the most painful experiences of his unlife. Yes, a little distraction was just what he needed…

* * *

“Pretty, pretty boy…”

Xander eyed Spike warily, his nude body still curled safely against Cordelia’s. The other male vampire was still naked from the waist up, and he had his head cocked to one side interestedly as his eyes ran up and down Xander’s body. Xander’s demon reveled in having such a powerful male so obviously pleased with his appearance; the human voice, still just a hint of a whisper in this first day of unlife, was trying desperately to remind him that he wasn’t gay and he really shouldn’t be turned on when Spike…oh…

The peroxide blond vampire’s lips were hard and insistent, and Xander was so overcome by sensation that he couldn’t even think to resist. His lips parted hungrily at Spike’s caress, and Spike’s tongue thrust hard into his mouth in response, claiming, possessing, stroking Xander to an ecstasy he had thought impossible from a mere kiss.

He clung on to Spike tightly, feeling a hard, flat, marbled chest rubbing erotically against his own, struggling instinctively to get their groins into alignment and…

“Not right yet, mate,” Spike pulled away with a little chuckle, lips turning to trace down Xander’s throat. He studiously avoided Cordelia’s mark – just a bit of respect for the new sire and a reassurance that he didn’t plan on stealing her boy from her – before nuzzling himself into Xander’s bare shoulder.

Xander whimpered when he finally pulled away, but instantly Cordelia’s hands were on him again, reminding him who he belonged to.

“Very pretty boy,” Spike concluded, moving to sit back against the wall beside Buffy. He flashed her a rakish grin when he saw the lust-filled glaze in her eyes. “Imaginin’ being the meat in that sandwich, are we, luv?” he teased lightly.

Her arms slid easily over his shoulders as she settled comfortably in his lap. “Who wouldn’t?” she countered with a seductive little smile.

He laughed at that. “My ravenous little slayer,” he purred affectionately.

Cordelia, perfectly content with her Xander, urged him to lie back down on the bed beside her. “We doing anything today?” she yawned.

“You’re not,” Spike informed her. “Was looking for Red, actually.”

“She ran off last night,” Cordelia provided vaguely, nuzzling her head into Xander’s chest.

Spike sighed and bit Buffy lightly on the shoulder. “Up, kitten,” he said apologetically. “Still have work to do for tomorrow night.”

Buffy pouted internally. Was he really so caught up in Drusilla’s cure that they didn’t have time for a quickie? Apparently so, as she soon found herself on her feet and following Spike out into the audience chamber.

He paused at the doorway for a second, though. “Watch that boy of yours,” he advised Cordelia. “Pretty, responsive creature like that’s bound to attract some unwanted attention. My scent on ‘im should help a bit, but…” he trailed off pointedly.

Cordelia nodded in understanding, her hand coming to rest possessively on Xander’s thigh as she pulled him against her. “I promise to take good care of my handsome childe,” she whispered into his ear. “They’ll never get their hands on you.” A pause as she considered him. “Even if you do dress like a blind clown half the time,” she added, nose scrunching up.

“Hey!” Xander protested defensively.

Buffy giggled against Spike’s shoulder, and they left the brunette couple alone to sort out this familiar squabble. The sun had just fully set, so the audience chamber was nearly empty. Only a couple of females and one very delicate young male had enough competition for their favors that they could afford to sit back and wait while food was brought to them. Together with the four guards Spike had set up on the off chance that Angel should escape, they made up the current clan habitation.

“Willow already go out?” Spike demanded of one of these guards.

A shake of his head. “The redhead, right? Haven’t seen her.”

Spike frowned at this. “She come back last night?”

The guard shrugged.

“Great lookout, you are…” Spike muttered under his breath before heading back to the maze of bedrooms that lay to the rear of the building.

“Th-There were strange noises coming from Derek’s old room last night.” The nervous injection was courtesy of the pretty young male.

Spike nodded a grunt of approval at this information, and he and Buffy promptly headed in that direction. The scent of blood as they approached – some of it unmistakably Willow’s – confirmed that they were on the right track.

Buffy left his side, then, walking along the other wall of the hallway, senses alert to any possible danger.

Spike walked a bit more confidently, although still warily. Something about this didn’t smell right. His hand came to rest on the doorknob to the room, and he gestured for Buffy to stay back. Slowly, the door opened with a creak…

And, almost instantly, a vampire – one of the ones that had attacked Willow, Buffy recognized – burst through the open door, wide-eyed in panic.

Spike was so surprised by the sudden assault that the minion managed to slip past him, but Buffy’s foot hooked against his ankle as he ran past, and the vamp was sent sprawling to the floor. Buffy and Spike surrounded his prostrate form and noticed for the first time that he was covered with cuts and bruises.

“S-She’s crazy!” he gasped, looking up to them for help. “We tried to break her, but she just kept coming back at us, and we couldn’t get out, and… _she never gets tired_! Always watching and waiting a-and striking every time we let our guard down for a second, and…”

Spike cut his tirade off with a powerful hand to the vamp’s neck. “You talkin’ about Willow?” he demanded.

A nervous nod in response.

“You touched her against her will?”

Eyes flitted about in evasion of the question.

“Did you?” Spike hissed angrily.

“She started it!” the vamp whined out in a childlike voice. “Trapped the three of us in there together. What did she think would—?”

The grip Spike had on his throat tightened. “She knew perfectly well that no one touches her without _my_ permission,” he countered in a deceptively calm voice. “Did you know that?”

The vamp vigorously shook his head.

“Well, you do now.” Spike gave him a wicked smile and, then, with superhuman strength, he ripped the vamp’s head clean from his shoulders. The startled minion’s face gaped in horror for a second, before his body and head crumbled to dust.

“He was mine.” The pout came from the door, turning Buffy and Spike’s attention back in that direction.

“Jeez, Wills, what happened to you?” Buffy breathed in shock.

Willow’s clothes hung off of her body in ripped strands of fabric. Blood and bruises covered her body, but also her lips and hands. She’d given just as she’d gotten, then. Her hair and eyes were wild. And, even though she smelled of multiple violations, a wicked grin curved her lips, indicating all too well that she considered this to be a victory.

Spike, equally shocked by her feral appearance, peered into the room behind her and spotted the telltale ashes of the third captive of the room. “A bit of a risk, takin’ two at once,” he commented casually.

Mad delight curved Willow’s lips. “They were weak. Fools who thought only of their pleasure and not of their lives.” She yawned and stretched before straightening out her hair. “In the end, they weren’t strong enough to finish me off. And they paid for their weakness.”

Willow’s eyes landed on Buffy’s for an instant, and the former slayer recoiled when she once again felt the voice in her head. _“Just try and top that,”_ Willow’s mind even seemed to gloat. _“Not a man who has touched me against my will still lives…”_

Buffy’s eyes narrowed in response. Just when she’d gotten the first of her revenge. She should’ve known Willow wouldn’t let the odds stay even for long.

Spike seemed a bit stunned by this turn of events, and he eyed Willow warily. “Need your help with the spell for tomorrow,” he informed her, his orders still as confident as ever despite her recent display.

She smiled at that. “How is mommy today?” she asked excitedly. “May I see her?” She sidled up against Spike and purred affectionately.

He relaxed to her presence, but a flash of anger yellowed his eyes at the memory of where Drusilla was and who she was with. “Mommy’s busy right now,” he said apologetically, one arm slipping around her waist to guide her back to the library. “But when she’s done with Angelus, ‘m sure she’ll wanna see you…”

Willow squealed and squeezed his butt affectionately with one hand.

Buffy watched them go, once again the odd vamp out, and had the sudden urge to rip Willow’s throat out then and there.

 _“Nasty, nasty thoughts,”_ a voice teased in her head. _“And see how fickle daddy’s affections are? You’d be oh-so-much-better off with me.”_

Not even knowing how she did it, Buffy’s mind snapped closed, blocking Willow’s teasing and leaving her alone with only her own doubts…


	9. Chapter 9

Five hours.

Buffy was convinced they were the longest wait of both her life and her unlife. Spike paced frantically, checking the large wall-clock every few seconds, and she was starting to feel dizzy from watching him. Across from her, Willow dangled her feet innocently over the edge of the table, eagerly awaiting the hour in which their mother would be restored to them. Xander and Cordelia were sleeping again in the bedroom. And Drusilla still hadn’t emerged from the spare room, but every so often muffled cries could be heard. Spike obviously didn’t like the thought that his woman was torturing another man.

Buffy wanted to be sympathetic, but she was too pissed at him right now. She had been less than pleased to learn that Spike had assigned her to stay behind while the rest of their group, save only Cordelia and Xander, went with him to participate in the ritual. Willow had been sending Buffy psychic little gloats for hours now, and Buffy was about ready to rip the redhead’s head off.

She was quite worried, however. Had Spike, perhaps, sensed that she wasn’t so eager to have Drusilla restored to them? He had to know that she wanted him all to herself, and Drusilla was the most serious roadblock to that plan. Did he suspect that she’d sabotage the ritual? _Would_ she sabotage the ritual if she’d had the chance?

Buffy found herself surprisingly indecisive about that point. Any anger she felt toward Drusilla was simply her own fear about what would happen to her once her sire had his mate back. She felt a sort of bond with Dru – as was natural given that she was the vampiress’ grandchilde – but she didn’t entirely trust her, either. After all, Dru had urged Spike to sire her under the presumption that Dru’s own days were numbered. If she survived, would she tolerate Buffy’s continued presence?

Willow, obviously, hoped the answer was no. And Buffy had to admit that that option would leave her between a rock and a hard place. She would have to find some other allies if Spike and Dru went their separate way. She didn’t delude herself that she was powerful enough to stand on her own. Martial arts training did her a bit of good, but virtually all the other clan members were older than she was.

So, allies then. And, really, Willow was her only viable option in this situation. Willow had been very carefully building up a circle of support around her leadership. Most of the clan was terrified of her, and those that weren’t picked up on her increasing number of supporters. With Spike and Drusilla gone, Buffy had no doubt that Willow would fast become a power in the Hellmouth struggle.

Spike’s impatient sigh brought her attention back to the present. The clock read seven-thirty now. The sun was certainly low enough for them to move out. Spike’s plan entailed waiting until the last moment to prevent any interruptions by what remained of the Scoobies. But that plan was likely to last as long as any of his others.

He resumed pacing for a few more steps before he finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Dalton,” he snapped at the scribe, “prepare the spell ingredients. I want to get to the church as soon as possible.”

Dalton scrabbled at his instructions, and Willow got up to help him. Buffy alone remained in the makeshift library, nibbling nervously on her lower lip and pondering her future…

* * *

Drusilla hummed an ancient tune to herself as she seemed to glide across the room on feather-light feet. She stopped in front of the box she’d had Spike bring in from her room and ran one hand across the lid, tracing the elegant wooden carvings that shaped out the words ‘Holy Water’. She cradled the small crystal pitcher from within in her hands before turning back to her prey.

A little groan escaped Angel’s split and parched lips as he saw her approach, and she tisked him softly for his lack of enthusiasm. His wrists were bound high above his head, however, and he was helpless to her mad whims.

“The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch…” she commented dreamily, black eyes intent on the sire she’d lived in terror of for so long. “My mummy ate lemons,” she informed him, a cold harsh sanity lighting her eyes for an instant. And then that deranged glee returned to her features. “Raw.” She let out a little growl to emphasize her point.

With a dancer’s grace, she knelt in front of him. He turned away pointedly, determined not to scream this time. It was a game they had played over and over all day. She would whisper horrors of his past crimes before inflicting equal physical agony upon him in exchange for the ravages he had forced upon her mind. But, even as his soul begged for forgiveness, his rational mind insisted this wasn’t the same innocent Angelus had corrupted. And he refused to give in to this monster’s tortures.

A distant look entered Dru’s eyes as she tried to recall her memories of her mother. “She said she loved the way they made her mouth…tingle.” One falsely-seductive hand ran up his bare chest. “Little Anne…”

Horrifying visions of her mother screaming and twisted in agony flashed through her mind. Angelus’ dark and wicked eyes as he branded her… With an angry hiss, Dru splashed the holy water onto his chest. Instantly, hot steam rose from the wound as it sizzled like acid.

Angel’s head jerked in pain, but he managed to stop the scream from escaping his lips.

For some reason, his agony seemed to soothe Drusilla’s mind. _Finally making that wicked monster pay for what he did to me…_ The thought sounded strangely as though it had come from the child she had once been. She shook the notion off and got back into her role. “Her favorite was custard,” she informed Angel matter-of-factly, “brandied pears…”

A deep pain sunk into his chest worse than anything the holy water could do. An agonized and apologetic gasp escaped his lips, “Dru…”

She would have none of it, however. It was time this matter was buried once and for all. “Shh!” she snapped sternly, rising to her feet. “And pomegranates,” she continued her speech, crawling onto the bed behind Angel. “They used to make her face and fingers aaall red…”

With an angry hiss she sloshed more of the holy water onto his chest. Angel gritted his teeth, fighting back tears, but he won the battle not to scream.

“Remember? Hmm?” she demanded harshly and angrily. “Little fingers, little hands. Do you?”

Angel shivered convulsively. “If I could…” he began to plead.

“Bite your tongue!” With a violent screech, she slashed out at his cheek, leaving four red furrows upon the flesh in her wake. She could still see her loved ones screaming in agony in her mind’s eye, while Angelus just fixed her with that wicked, relentless look. The one that told her that no matter how far she ran, how many years she fled, whatever she had become, he’d still come after her, ready to make her life a living hell. “Th-They used to eat cake, and eggs, and honey,” she spat out, terrified to find that tears were building at the corners of her eyes. A deep breath, and she composed herself, her voice and countenance turning eerily dulcet once more. “Until you came and ripped their throats out…”

With that note of finality, she poured the rest of the holy water onto his chest, and Angel screamed out loud in agony. She savored her sweet moment of revenge. For once _she_ had the power, and Angelus was helpless and at her mercy.

She paced maniacally before him, turning angry eyes on him with each question. “Did you enjoy torturing and tormenting me all those years?” she demanded. “Did you like making your ‘sweet little girl’ fawn over you? Did you laugh every time I said something mad?” With a final angry growl, she vamped out and her eyes flashed amber in the candlelight. “Did you enjoy giving me eternity, only to make me live it in terror?”

Angel refused to say anything, as unresponsive as ever.

Slowly, Drusilla’s anger dissipated at the weak, helpless creature before her. “How fitting that aaall your blood will save me. You’ll be nothing – ashes – and I’ll be strong once more. And,” her frenzied pacing came to an abrupt halt right in front of him, “when my daring William and I are enjoying eternity together…” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “We’ll never spare you a second thought.”

She sat back, satisfied at that, no longer caring whether he responded or not. She hadn’t expected the cough from the door, however, and turned in surprise to see Spike waiting there. Jealous eyes were fixed upon the scratches, bruises, and burns that covered Angel’s bare torso.

“Clever boy,” she tried to reassure him with a smile, pausing only long enough for him to open up his arms to her before she slipped into his comforting embrace, “sneaking up on a psychic like that…”

The comment seemed to amuse him, and his lips quirked as he ran the fingers of one hand through her ebony hair. “It’s time,” he informed her.

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Angel’s despairing look. “Did my Angel hear that?” she informed him smugly. “It’s time to give me life once more.”

Spike gestured to Sayo and Julien to take Angel, and the two minions did so while Spike led Drusilla back into the audience hall. “Feelin’ tired, pet?” he asked softly, noticing her shiver and removing his duster so that he could wrap it around her shoulders.

She gave him a grateful little smile. “Tired, but _sooo_ excited,” she assured him with a little giggle.

“Make sure you’re never this weak again,” he promised, placing a kiss to her brow.

She purred softly and nuzzled against him. “My Spike has always been so good to me,” she sighed. Elegant fingers stroked his cheek. “My beautiful love…”

His eyes squeezed shut tight for a moment at the admission. “Tonight’ll be the end of Angelus, you know,” he commented cautiously. “No chance he’ll ever come back to us…”

She jutted out her lower lip for his benefit and looked up at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. “My baby shouldn’t ever have to worry about naughty daddy,” she insisted. “No one’s ever loved me the way you have. If only…” A sad, distant look entered her eyes, but she shook it off. Almost instantly that quirky smile returned to her lips. “We don’t need Angelus anymore,” she insisted. “We can have a perfect, happy little family without him.”

“Dru…” Spike purred lovingly against her, nose nuzzled deep into her hair as he squeezed her tightly against him. “Love you so much, pet.”

“Naughty, sweet William,” she agreed.

Across the audience chamber from them, Buffy watched the entire display with a mixture of jealousy, arousal, and fear. She should’ve known right from the beginning that she’d never be able to slip her way between those two. They looked so perfectly fitted to each other right then, so very in love. They understood each other, had cared for each other for over a century. And she was just some fledgling they’d picked up on a lark.

 _“Told you,”_ Willow’s voice slipped into her mind nastily.

Buffy glared at the redhead as she went over to join Spike, Dru, and the rest of their little party.

“Ooh, bondage Angel!” Willow giggled in delight when the elder vamp was brought up in chains. “Pity we don’t have time to play with the puppy,” she pouted.

“His screams are so pretty,” Dru agreed before letting out a little squeal as Spike lifted her up in his arms to carry her to the place of her healing.

“You’ll keep an eye on things while we’re gone,” he informed Buffy, approaching her to brush a quick kiss across her temple. 

Dru’s sneaky hand found Buffy’s breast as he did so, and she gave her grandchilde a quick, affectionate squeeze. “Be sure to stay up for the fun later,” she advised Buffy.

Buffy merely nodded, took one last moment to murmur against Spike’s shoulder, before she stepped back. She bit her lower lip as the party moved out, leaving her feeling distinctly alone for the first time since she’d been turned. One narrow-eyed look at the remaining vamps in the audience chamber, and she retreated back to her rooms to join Cordelia and Xander.

What she didn’t see were the two vampires that exchanged furtive looks upon her departure.

“Two to go,” the large vampire that had attacked Cordelia commented nervously. “That’s what they’re all thinking. Just waiting to get us alone and…” He shuddered.

Ivan threw him an annoyed glance. “Are you forgetting we’re dealing with mere _fledglings_ here?” he snapped back, annoyed.

“You saw what the redhead did to—”

“I saw,” Ivan cut him off. “That doesn’t change the fact that she’ll still dust if you ram a stake through her heart…after ramming it somewhere else first…” He added with a wickedly hungry smile.

His companion couldn’t help but laugh naughtily at that, too. “Good luck, though,” he added soberly. “We already got lucky that Spike and Drusilla didn’t come after us for the last time. The little fledgling girls we can handle, but the masters?” He just shook his head.

Cold, calculating eyes turned on him. “What if our glorious masters weren’t around anymore to stop us?” Ivan countered slyly.

A baffled look.

“It seems there’s a new slayer in town,” Ivan clarified. “And if she should happen to stumble upon Spike and Dru when they were at their weakest… Say, at that ritual tonight, perhaps?”

His companion’s eyes lit up with realization. “Then there’d be nothing left to stop us from teaching those bitches another lesson. And make sure it takes this time.”

Ivan snorted. “Small minds,” he complained before leaning in closer. “There’d be nothing left to stop us,” he agreed, “from becoming the new masters of the Hellmouth itself.”

A greedy smile in response. “What do we do?”

Ivan grinned and slipped one arm around his much taller companion’s shoulder. “Not much at all, really,” he countered as they exited the entrance hall into the clear, dark night…

* * *

“I say,” Kendra began, “that we should check every church in Sunnydale.” She crossed her arms over her chest matter-of-factly, as if the solution really was that simple.

Giles sighed and removed his glasses. “Our chances of locating Spike in time to save Angel—”

“Who cares about the other vampire?” Kendra countered. “Better to wait until this Angel is dead before we attack. Better odds.”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose at having to explain this all over again. “Angel is an ally,” he repeated. “Alone, you stand very little chance against both Spike and Drusilla. With Angel’s assistance, we just might succeed.”

Kendra shifted uncomfortably at that. “The slayer works alone,” she insisted.

“And, when she does so, she gets herself killed.” Giles felt a little pang in his heart that no one had been able to help Buffy in her final hour of need. “Besides, I am your watcher for the duration of your visit, so you will listen to what I say.”

That subdued Kendra at once. “Yes, sir,” she said apologetically.

A brief twinge of disappointment went through Giles that she gave in to his orders so easily. Not like Buffy at all. Although he was quite surprised to find that he missed her disobedient aspects just as much as he missed her more pleasant and delightful qualities. It made the loss of that vibrant, strong-willed life even more painful for him.

“It seems to me,” he began once more, shaking off the moment of grief, “that the wisest course of action would be to—”

A cough at the library door cut him off.

Kendra instantly leapt to her feet and took up a defensive stance, cursing herself for allowing herself to become so distracted that a pair of vampires could get this close. She circled for one moment, waiting for their attack. When it didn’t come immediately, she rushed at them with an ululating battle cry, high kick catching the largest of the two right in the chin and sending him smashing back into the library desk.

“Wait!” the smaller vampire exclaimed in alarm. “We’re not here to fight!”

“That is what the slayer does to demon scum,” Kendra informed him coldly, plucking Mr. Pointy from the waistband of her pants.

“We’ve got information on where Angel is!” Ivan squealed in horror as Kendra pinned him neatly down and raised her arm to strike.

“Wait!” Giles’ command halted Kendra instants before the killing blow.

“He is a vampire,” she insisted. “He must be destroyed.”

“Is there any harm in acquiring information from him first?” Giles pointed out, eyebrow raised.

Kendra bit her lip for a second before reluctantly letting Ivan go. “You had better not lie to us,” she informed him icily.

Ivan gulped. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he insisted, his voice squeaking.

Jim, his six-foot-four companion, rose, giving him a bit more courage.

“We tell you, and you have to let us go, right?” Ivan insisted.

Giles, now armed with a crossbow, gave him an imperious look. “I hardly see why that should follow,” he countered. “But you may live a bit longer if you tell us what you know.”

Ivan and Jim exchanged a worried look. Getting killed definitely hadn’t been part of their plan.

“We don’t have all day,” Giles informed them tersely. Kendra stepped forward in response, ready to be rid of these minions.

“We’ll tell!” Jim insisted nervously. He looked pointedly at Ivan.

Ivan, in turn, was studying the bookshelf beside them, plotting their escape. “Well, go ahead,” he rolled his eyes.

Jim nodded. “They’re going to kill Angel tonight in a ritual that will restore Drusilla. Right at midnight—”

“We know all of this,” Giles cut him off impatiently. “ _Where_?”

“Th-The abandoned church in San Mateo Cemetery,” Jim hastened to answer.

Giles thought about this for a second and decided it was likely. Spike would want to choose a cemetery where he was unlikely to be disturbed by the living, and the church in question was one of the prime options in Sunnydale.

“Why are you telling us this?” Giles continued his interrogation. “If you think to lure us into a trap…”

“Trap?” Ivan scoffed. “You honestly think we’re taking orders from that usurper?”

Also a good answer, Giles decided. From what he’d seen and read of their foe, he was unlikely to put his paramour in such danger during this highly delicate ritual. “You did not answer my first question,” he stated simply. “Why tell us?”

A nasty sneer curved Ivan’s lips. “Because you can make Spike dead for good this time.”

An internal power struggle with the vampire clan, then. Interesting. “Why—?” Giles began, but his question was cut off when the two vampires made their escape attempt.

With a loud crash, Ivan abruptly knocked over the bookshelf, sending Kendra leaping back out of the path of destruction. Giles had been lamentably off-guard as he had gotten into his questioning, and he raised his crossbow to fire a second too late. Just as the minions darted out the door, the bolt lodged in the frame.

“Damn it,” he swore, hurrying over to tend to Kendra.

“I am all right,” she insisted, getting to her feet. She gave him a particularly blank look. “No harm in questioning the vampires before we kill them, I believe you said?”

Giles sighed at that. “At least we’ve found ourselves some bigger fish…”

Kendra nodded and headed over to the weapon’s room. “I will take care of them,” she insisted.

Giles caught her arm. “ _We_ will take care of them,” he countered in a voice that brooked no argument…

* * *

“That settles it,” Jim shuddered at their near escape as they wound their way through the warehouse district. “It’s not just Buffy. _All_ slayers are fucking psycho.”

Ivan snorted at that comment disinterestedly. “It doesn’t matter now that she won’t have her Spike to save her,” he countered with a wicked grin.

Jim looked at him confusedly.

“No need to wait to have our fun,” Ivan countered. “Pretty little girls left home all alone…”

“With no one to defend them,” Jim agreed with a toothy grin.

“What do you say we have some fun with those bitches tonight?” Ivan suggested, licking his lips.

Jim merely nodded eagerly, before they hurried back to the clan hideout…

* * *

Spike tested the chain that bound Angel’s arms and was satisfied with its strength. He gestured to Julien to give the chain an extra tug where it was looped over the ceiling beam. Angel’s arms jerked up another foot in response, leaving his body stretched as far as it would go. He let out a little whimper of pain, and Spike grinned.

“Dru-luv?” he gestured for her to come forward.

She slipped his duster off her shoulders and handed it back to him with a coy smile. “Soon we’ll be together again, my love,” she cooed before taking her place and allowing Spike to latch her to Angel above the altar.

“Well, then,” Spike took a step back and glanced at the clock, “looks like ‘s finally time to get this show on the road…”


	10. Chapter 10

Candles flickered throughout the darkened church, sending eerie shadows upon its undead occupants. Dalton shuddered just at being in this former religious site, but he stuck to triple checking his notes. Across from him, Willow scoffed at his cowardice openly. But, inwardly, she felt the same unpleasant tingle running down her spine.

Near the doorway, Julien and Sayo watched the ritual, glad that for once they were away from the center of action. All vampires tended to develop a healthy fear of magic over time. All sane ones, at least. The dark arts were one of the few powers on earth capable of rendering them completely defenseless.

Spike had built up his own distrust of magic over the years, but he was more than willing to overlook it for Dru’s benefit. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the censer from Dalton’s desk and lit the incense with a quick flick of his lighter. The scent was not one that was familiar to him, but his demon instantly associated it with dark magic and began bristling in response. Forcing it down, he walked slowly up and down the nave of the church, filling the small chamber with the intoxicating scent.

Off of Dalton’s nod, he returned to the altar. Eyes that looked black in the candlelight stared at the point where Drusilla and Angel hung together for the ceiling. Time to finally make things right again.

“Eligor, I name thee,” he began in a dull tone, trying not to roll his eyes at how inane these rituals all were. “Bringer of war, poisoners, pariahs, grand obscenity.” 

 _Blah, blah, blah, shall I kiss your arse some more?_ Spike may have needed this ritual, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.

“Eligor, wretched master of decay, bring your black medicine.” _And save me from this bleeding repetition…_

He approached Dru and Angelus now and circled them slowly as he continued the Universe’s Most Boring Ritual. 

Drusilla caught his eye, and she tried not to break the mood by giggling at the completely bored look on her mate’s face. Poor boy never did have the patience for these things. Which made it all the more precious that he was willing to go to these lengths for her. “Black medicine…” she whispered a repetition of the last line, giving him an encouraging look.

Giving her a little nod in response, he set the censer down on the altar. Pulling at the base of the large black rubber glove he wore to make sure it was on securely, he carefully picked up the Du Lac Cross. Crossbeam only slightly repaired by a bit of all-purpose duct tape.

“Come,” he said in a clear voice, feeling the magical forces building. He held the cross up pointedly for a moment before turning it upside-down and summoning its inverted force. “Restore your most impious, murderous child.”

Drusilla whispered along softly with him, feeling the gathering energy surrounding her and Angel.

Spike yanked on the point of the cross, and an ornate-looking dagger emerged, embossed and bejeweled with ancient symbols. Leaving the rest of the cross behind, he approached the pair hanging behind the altar.

“From the blood of the sire, she is risen,” he proclaimed, taking Drusilla’s left hand and guiding it so that it clasped Angelus’ right. “From the blood of the sire, she shall rise again.”

With one swift stroke, he stabbed the blade through the union of their hands. Angel cried out in agony, while Dru gasped in something akin to awe. Slowly, the blood trickled between their hands. So dark it was almost black at first, their wounds slowly began glowing a deep red. The light grew brighter until suddenly it let out a blinding bright pink burst. A beat of energy pulsed out through their bodies before encompassing the entire room in a ring of pale pink light.

Spike flinched backward instinctively from the light, but it quickly faded to a faint glimmer that centered in glowing rings around Angel and Drusilla’s bound hands. As he watched, Angel slumped, the strength ebbing from his body and flowing into Dru’s. Her head fell back with a gasp as she felt the healing energy consume her.

Spike cast a quick look Dalton and Willow’s way, and they both them him approving nods. With a silent breath of relief, he returned to their desk to watch. “Right, then!” he announced in a falsely cheerful voice, not willing to show how tense he felt before his audience. “Now we just let them come to a simmering boil, and remove to a low flame,” he joked lightly.

Willow giggled at that, sidling up beside him to watch her mommy grow stronger.

And that was when the door burst in.

* * *

“Look at the pretty little lambs, all ripe for the slaughter…”

Buffy started at the sudden words in the silence of the bedroom, jumping instantly to her feet to face the two intruders at the doorway.

“Better watch out,” Ivan scoffed at her defensive posture, “this lamb thinks she’s a wolf.”

Jim couldn’t help but giggle at that. The thought of this tiny little creature thinking she could defeat _him_. “The small ones are always fun to take,” he commented lasciviously. “So tight and eager to scream with pain.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed in response. She would’ve preferred to put off this confrontation until after she knew the results of Drusilla’s ritual, but there wasn’t any harm in trying to settle things now. If she could. She wasn’t quite liking the two-on-one odds. Nevertheless, she put on an icy front.

“When Spike finds out you dared to enter his room, he’ll flay you alive,” she said with a false cheerfulness that belied her deadly shifting into demon form.

Ivan gave her a wicked smile at that. “Funny thing about that, honey,” he chided her. “I don’t think daddy’s coming back. Seems he had a bit of a run-in with the slayer.”

Momentary panic flashed in Buffy’s eyes at the thought of Spike facing off with some trained killer. But she quickly reassured herself that he could take care of himself. If these two losers were even telling the truth, that is.

“In case you haven’t heard,” she countered with a defiant flip of her hair, “slayers are Spike’s prime choice of meat. He’s killed three already, you know. The fourth?” She shrugged disinterestedly. “No big deal.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Ivan sneered.

Jim just grinned dumbly until Ivan jabbed him in the ribs. Jim gave him a confused look, and Ivan’s eyes widened pointedly, telling Jim to play along. “Oh. Right. So cute.” A pause. “Uh, what’s cute?” he whispered, puzzled.

Ivan fought the urge to rip the other vamp’s head off. He couldn’t let his dimwitted ally ruin the mood he’d set up, after all. “How she’s in denial about her precious daddy’s death,” he countered. “Our Brave Little Slayer…”

Buffy hissed at that, and her eyes flashed yellow. “I’m not your _anything_ ,” she informed him coldly.

“Oh no?” Ivan countered smugly. “Seems to me I made a rather proprietary claim all over your face. Remember that, bitch?” He chuckled at the rage that tensed through her tiny body. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been honoring it?” he teased.

Buffy opened her mouth to retort, but she was distracted when Cordelia chose that moment to finally awake.

“What’s going on?” the dark-haired vampiress wondered before her eyes widened at the intruders. Instantly, she was on her feet as well and at Buffy’s side. Worry flooded her mind not only for herself and Buffy, but also for her childe who still lay innocently sleeping in the bed.

“And my girl’s here, too,” Jim announced proudly.

Cordy snarled at that. “Puh- _lease_!” she retorted sarcastically. “Like a needle-dick like you could _ever_ do it for me.”

Jim gaped at that, and Ivan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut up!” Jim protested in a whiny voice.

Ivan just shook his head. “Whatever you say, ‘needle-dick’,” he grinned.

“You’re one to be talking,” Buffy taunted him. “Bet a girl couldn’t even feel that shriveled up thing of yours. That why you just sit back and watch?”

Ivan’s face reddened with fury. “Sounds like you want another taste, bitch.”

Cordy gave Buffy an annoyed look. “Egg him on much?” she demanded.

“Like they would’ve let us alone anyway,” Buffy retorted.

“Looks like we’re going to have to do a bit of discipline,” Ivan announced, circling to the right as he stalked Buffy.

“Teach ‘em good,” Jim agreed, eyes set on Cordelia.

The two vampiresses turned with their attackers until they were back to back and then, as if on some mutual signal, they ran at their foes shrieking…

* * *

“Do you _mind_?” Spike snapped sarcastically as the church doors were burst inward, and Kendra and Giles made their appearance.

“You have met your end, vampire,” Kendra announced, accent growing thicker as she prepared to fight, “for I am the Vampire Slayer.”

“No, really?” Spike retorted with a disgusted roll of his eyes. “I thought you were the bleedin’ queen of England.”

This comment seemed to puzzle Kendra, and her brow furrowed. She’d never had a vampire talk back to her before.

“Stay back,” Giles ordered, crossbow raised. He was far more used to vampire back talk than Kendra was and hadn’t even paused for a second. “If you would all kindly step away from Angel…”

“So you can dust us all after you’ve got what you came for?” Spike retorted, taking a deliberate step between the human pair and their destination. “You’re not dealin’ with brain-dead fledglings here, watcher. And, might I say, you’re makin’ quite a nuisance of yourself. Keep pissin’ me off like this, and ‘m liable to do you in one of these days.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Giles insisted primly.

“And I’m even less afraid of you,” Spike shot back matter-of-factly. He snapped the fingers of his left hand, and instantly Giles found himself surrounded by Sayo and Julien, who had been remaining quiet in the shadows up until this point. “Don’t finish him off until I’m done with the slayer,” Spike ordered.

The vamp pair nodded and began their circling.

Kendra was torn for an instant where she should attack, but then her choice was made for her when Spike lunged at her with a roar. Stake instantly in her hand, she ducked and struck up hard against the vampire’s chest…

* * *

Jim lunged first, and Cordy’s hand slashed out in response. He leapt back with an angry roar as the sharp points of her nails dug deep into his cheek.

She got one moment to gloat before he tackled her full on, hands clutching in her hair as he banged her head against the floor. She winced at the beating, forcing back the blackness that threatened to overtake her. Already, she felt herself growing dizzy, but somehow her knee managed to get between his legs and she lashed up hard.

She was slightly off the mark, but even the glancing blow had Jim hissing in pain, staggering backwards as he tried to recover. Fortunately for him, he had a few years on his foe, and his demon managed to work around the pain more quickly.

Cordelia’s vision was still blurred, but she saw him coming and rolled desperately to the side and out of his reach. She took one quick glance at Buffy and realized with a groan that the former slayer was caught up in her own battle to aid her in any way.

Buffy had learned her lesson from the last attack and was keeping her moves strictly defensive. Her muscles could remember her attacks all too well, but her reactions were just a little bit slower and her blows a little bit weaker. But her ducking and dodging technique seemed to be working all right for the moment.

“Whatsa matter, bitch?” Ivan sneered. A satisfied smile curved his lips when she blocked a bit too slowly, and his fist grazed the side of her face. “Afraid to take me on?”

“Proud of the fact that you can hit a _fledgling_?” she retorted sarcastically. “Wow, you really are a big, strong vamp aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes and took another few dancing steps out of his reach.

Her words just infuriated him more. “Tease all you like,” he retorted, “but sooner or later you’ll have no place to run.”

Buffy was well aware of this fact. The bedroom wasn’t overly large, and she had only a few more paces before she’d be backed up against the dressers lining the back wall. Cordelia seemed to be faring rather poorly against her foe, leaving Buffy with nothing but herself in this fight. No slayer, no backup, and not even her demon if she wanted to keep levelheaded enough to win this. Just Buffy.

The prospect was terrifying but exhilarating all at once.

Across the room, Jim’s foot came down hard on Cordelia’s back, leaving her slumped and struggling with unconsciousness on the floor. With a triumphant grin, he moved to take his prize before he noticed the rustling on the bed. His senses jumped to hyper-alert at the latest potential threat, but when he saw the vampire within, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Check it out,” he called over to Ivan, who’d taken to circling a still-defensive Buffy. “Our girls went out and got us a pretty little boy.”

Xander snarled at that, demon still completely in control and not comprehending anything that was happening. All he was able to understand at that point was ‘sire’ and ‘food’, and his demon shied away from these intruders.

“Another treat for us,” Ivan agreed with a grin, taking another advancing step.

Buffy backed up again, and her back collided with the dresser.

“Nowhere else to run,” Ivan chided her.

Jim left Cordelia’s prone body and walked over to the bed, snagging Xander by the scruff of his neck. “And no one left to defend you,” he agreed…

* * *

“Stay with Dru,” Spike barked his orders to Willow and Dalton. “Nothing’s to interfere with the ritual.” On the next beat, he dodged the spinning kick of this latest slayer.

Willow hissed in distaste at his command, already smelling blood, but Dalton held her back with a surprisingly powerful grip.

“We do as he says,” the bespectacled vamp insisted matter-of-factly, dragging her along with him to guard the altar.

Julien and Sayo kept their grip on Giles, watching the fight before them with fascination. After all, it wasn’t every day that one saw the infamous Slayer of Slayers fighting with his chosen prey.

Spike dodged a series of strong blows, keeping one step ahead of his opponent at all times. This girl was too disciplined, too precisely trained. It made her predictable, easy to block. He actually felt himself slightly disappointed that he hadn’t found himself a worthier foe in this slayer. Now, Buffy… That had been a fight he would remember all his unlife.

He baited Kendra for a few more strikes before growing bored of this game. With a lightning-quick kick, he knocked her feet out from under her. She leapt back to her feet instantly, but he was already prepared with a spinning kick.

His ankle hit the slayer right in the jaw, and her head snapped violently to one side, blood dripping from her lips.

He chuckled and licked his own lips at the crimson droplets. “Oh, you shouldn’t have, luv,” he teased.

Kendra’s nostrils flared, and she moved into a defensive posture once more. Not one for witty banter, this slayer. A pity.

Finally bored of playing with her, he moved in for the kill. However, at that instant, the pink light surrounding Angel and Drusilla pulsed a deep red. Spike gasped in sudden surprise as a bolt of energy ran through him. Around him, all the other vampires reacted in the same way, falling to their knees as the spell reached its fruition and stretched out to bite at all their powers in that final moment.

Giles struggled to break free, but somehow Sayo and Julien managed to hold on.

However, Spike was left in no condition to deal with a slayer. Kendra took full advantage of the opportunity, knocking him down to the floor and retrieving her stake, holding it up high to strike. And completely oblivious to the fading light behind her, Angel’s body crumbling to ashes with a scream, and Drusilla falling back down to the ground with a gasp, she moved to deliver the killing blow…

* * *

“Oh, I’m going to show you a _good_ time, pretty boy,” Jim informed Xander, forcing the fledgling down onto his face on the mattress. He yanked Xander’s pants down, grinning at the perfect white cheeks displayed before him. “You’re gonna be so good…”

And then out of nowhere came a shriek like a wild banshee. Jim looked up just as two sharp nails jammed right into his eye-sockets. Screaming in pain, he fell backwards off the bed and instantly felt a hard kick to his gut. He barely even had time to notice the blow before razor-sharp claws dug into his skull from all sides, lifted him clear off the ground, and threw him right out the door and into the hall.

“ _No one_ ,” Cordelia’s voice reached a ear-piercing shriek as she chased him out into the corridor like an avenging fury, “lays a hand on my Xander!”

Ivan was stunned for a moment by the abrupt shift in power in the other fight, and it was all the time Buffy needed to put her plan into motion. Grabbing two crystal vials from the cabinet she’d intentionally backed into, she threw one of them as hard as she could right into Ivan’s face.

His face melted like candle wax as the holy water burned deep into his flesh. Writhing in agony, he staggered backwards, and that’s when Buffy hit him with the second vial, right in the middle of his chest. Flesh sizzled and burned, and crystal shards of glass cut deep.

Taking Cordelia’s unintentional – but strategically intelligent – plan of moving the fight where they had more room, Buffy caught hold of a broadsword from Spike’s weapon collection and swung at Ivan in wide arcs, forcing him back out the door.

Which left Xander alone in the room, blinking with confused yellow eyes at what had just happened.

Cordelia’s fury hadn’t abated in the slightest. Still slashing like a madwoman, she’d managed to pin Jim beneath her and was cutting and ripping at his flesh so rapidly that he couldn’t even begin to counteract her.

The shrieks had brought in a sizeable crowd, and a few of the minions couldn’t help but snicker at the huge vamp brought to such inglorious defeat by a female half his size and a quarter of his age. Even the snickers turned to gulps, however, when Cordelia’s wild lashings finally tore through Jim’s throat and neatly severed his head from his torso.

He collapsed in a poof of dust, and Cordelia’s blood-red teeth and golden eyes looked up furiously at the crowd, just waiting for another victim. “Xander. Is. _Mine_!” she screeched.

Nervous nods were the only responses anyone had to give.

Meanwhile, Buffy and Ivan continued to struggle. While Ivan was badly injured, he knew well enough that he had to keep fighting or die. Buffy was wielding the sword in well-practiced arcs, feinting and then slicing him in shallow cuts. Drawing off his blood and weakening him.

In one valiant last effort, he caught the blade of her sword, wincing as the hardened steel cut his hand deep. He kept his grip, however, and the sword clattered to the floor. Just the two of them, then.

Buffy knew she was close to her ultimate victory, could smell the blood in the air, both literally and figuratively. Her fists and feet aimed for the burned flesh of his face and chest, and he was so desperate to protect the injured areas that he neglected all else. The dangerous feints distracted his attention, while she bruised at battered his limbs, dropping his guard.

When he finally realized he was beat, he turned and ran for it…only to be stopped in his tracks by the immobile crowd in the hallway. They all wanted to see the violent conclusion to this match.

A sharp kick to the small of his back sent him down to the floor, and instantly Buffy was atop him, sword at the ready. She held it over his throat like a guillotine blade, hilt in her right hand and blade pressed beneath her left so that a thin trickle of her blood flowed onto the blade.

“All those times,” she began in a deadly whisper, “when you’re being tortured in hell, writhing in agony…” She gave him a falsely sweet smile. “You’ll see my face.”

His eyes widened in terror for one second before the blade sliced downward, and he vanished into nothingness.

Straightening her hair and brushing the dust from her clothing, Buffy rose to her feet, not sparing the crowd a second look. She gave Xander a reassuring smile as he ran to Cordelia’s arms and led the two vampires back to the bedroom.

“What sort of fools would dare attack us on our home turf?” she asked Cordelia loudly enough for the assembled crowd to hear every word, before she slammed the door shut behind them.

* * *

“Stop.”

It wasn’t a loud word, or excited in any way. It was softly spoken, barely above a whisper.

It held the most powerful command any of them had ever heard before, however, and it seemed to echo repeatedly through every mind in the room.

Including Kendra’s. Her eyes grew blank, and her hand stopped its descent just inches before the stake would’ve pierced Spike’s heart.

“There’s a good little girl,” Drusilla cooed, gliding up the aisle with a deadly purpose in her step. “Why don’t you stand up so mommy can get a good look at you?”

Enthralled, Kendra rose to her feet and turned to face the vampiress.

For one second, Drusilla gave the young girl a beatific smile. And then, faster than human eyes could see, she lashed out, sharp claws slitting the slayer’s jugular. The girl slumped to the floor in response, and Drusilla giggled.

The sound seemed to break the trance they were all under. Instantly, Giles began struggling against his two captors once more, and Spike shook his head at the blows he’d received while unable to fight back.

“Uh…what should we do with him?” Sayo asked confusedly, holding onto the human’s thrashing right arm.

Dru tisked at that. “We don’t slaughter family’s family,” she chided, “…without their permission, that is.” Dark anger flared in her eyes for one second. “Not like Angelus,” she spat.

Sayo looked to Spike for confirmation, and he nodded grimly. Let his childe deal with her own watcher if she so pleased. It wasn’t their place.

Giles froze for a second when he was released, too shocked to believe that he could possibly be escaping certain death once more. And then he decided not to press his luck and fled from the vampire clan once more. He’d certainly made more honorable retreats in his life…

Willow pouted after he was gone. “I wanted a new plaything,” she whined.

Dru waggled one finger at her before reaching down to help Spike up.

“Are you—?” he began, rising to his feet. He let out an undignified little yelp of surprise, however, when – instead of letting him stand – Dru caught him up in her arms, cradling her childe in her arms.

“All better,” she teased him with a light in her eyes that he had only seen rarely. Happiness, he’d always named it. Pure happiness… “My boy has done such a good job caring for me,” she pressed a light kiss to his platinum locks, “I think ‘s time I returned the favor.”

He purred against her. “Just one thing, luv…”

“Mmm?”

“Can you let me walk? This is bleedin’ embarrassing.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that and let him down gently to his feet once more. “Let’s go home,” she suggested, lust swirling in the ebony depths of her eyes.

“Home, sweet home.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Naughty William’s been building up quite a harem for himself while I’ve been asleep,” Drusilla tisked, a teasing light in her eyes.

He gave her a sheepish look as, on either side of him, Buffy and Cordelia peppered his face with kisses. Apparently some wanker had informed them that the slayer had done him in. Of course, he wasn’t protesting. Especially with Willow sidling up to him from behind, as well. Because every single other male in the room was envious of the four lovely vampiresses that constantly surrounded him, and every female wondered hopefully if he had energy to satisfy one more. A bloke could develop quite an ego this way. Luckily, he had Dru to straighten him out.

“Bad boy.” She pulled him away from the three voracious fledglings and caught his lips in a passionate kiss that let all know quite clearly who he _really_ belonged to. “Behave yourself or mommy will throw you over her shoulder in front of _aaall_ these minions.” She winked.

He laughed and nuzzled her hair. “God, ‘ve missed you…”

“Time we got reacquainted then,” she suggested, licking her lips.

“Mmm,” he purred against her, allowing her to lead him back to the bedroom.

Willow and Cordelia had already forgotten about the elder pair, of course. Xander apparently wanted to get back at his parents on his first full hunting night, and Cordelia was busy bribing Willow with sexual favors to get the redhead to allow it.

All was as usual, then, except for Buffy who watched the bedroom door close with a deep pang in her heart. She knew this would happen, that nothing would be the same, and she’d be left out on her own, and—

The door creaked open again. “Were you planning on joining us?” Dru asked, wide-eyed.

Buffy blinked at that. _Us? Both of them? At once?_

A slow smile curved Drusilla’s lips, and she extended one hand. “Come, childe,” she purred in a seductive offering that Buffy found impossible to deny.

Before she knew what was happening, she was inside the bedroom and pressed back against the door, Drusilla’s blunt teeth nibbling at her throat and Spike’s tongue plundering her mouth. She gasped, and her hands sought out flesh at random, roving over firm buttocks and tender breasts.

“Mmm…” she purred in delight, eyes half shut in lazy bliss as her two lovers nuzzled her throat from each side.

“Someone needs to get naked,” Spike chided her, teeth twisting her earlobe before he pulled away and settled onto the bed.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open for the first time, and she belatedly noticed that Spike and Drusilla had already completely stripped. She gulped audibly at the sight of his body, hard alabaster that shifted in the flickering candlelight.

As she watched, Dru pounced onto the bed beside him, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as her feminine body twined around his masculine one. Buffy was surprised to find herself aroused by the image of him wrapped in an intimate embrace with another woman.

“C’mon, childe,” Drusilla cooed.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the affectation. It was rare for a grandsire to honor her grandchilde with that title.

“Three’s company, luv,” Spike informed her, leaning in to taste the pale flesh of Drusilla’s throat.

The dark-haired vampiress whimpered. “I miss that show…”

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at that and rolled them over so that he was on top of her. “I know, pet.”

A playful light entered Dru’s eyes. “Won’t someone take care of a poor, lonely, innocent girl?” she tantalized him, batting her eyelashes and wrapping her legs around his waist.

With a feral, lustful growl, he was upon her, his cock piercing deep within her womb as he took his pleasure from her body.

Buffy began undressing slowly, eyes never leaving the couple on the bed. There was a sort of primal beauty to their mating, a familiarity and knowledge as hands ran over smooth flesh, caressing in just the right ways to draw out the most pleasure. She almost felt privy to a secret dance, the wild joining of two powerful mates…

Spike’s thrusts had started out rough but were growing ever more gentle. Still deep and strong, but tender and loving at the same time. Sharp talons and fangs grazed her skin without cutting, hands and tongue worshipped her body as if she were the most precious creature on earth to him.

Drusilla was quickly remembering why she’d turned him in the first place, cherished him… “My beautiful William,” she whispered in his ear, biting gently.

He turned to meet her eyes, letting her see all the swirling passion within…

Whatever he whispered in her ear was so quiet even Buffy’s vampire hearing couldn’t make it out, but it caused a bright smile to cross Drusilla’s features. Not her usual semi-wicked smile, but one of pure, innocent delight. The smile of a woman happy and very much in love.

Buffy sat on the edge of the mattress and watched as they each sank fangs into each other’s throats. Their bodies spasmed as they came, tangled limbs growing limp. Soft, feminine curves wrapped about masculine angles, all a perfect gleaming marble.

Buffy frowned as she watched them, vaguely aware that something powerful and incomprehensible was happening between the two lovers. Something deep and supernatural. Something that made her long for a mate of her own so that she could understand the phenomenon. Because it looked beautiful and wonderful…

Mesmerized, she reached out to stroke them. The firm curve of Spike’s ass, the graceful lines of Dru’s shins, backs, sides, arms, whatever she could reach. Like her hands were committing the two of them to memory.

She nearly started when Spike suddenly rolled over with a satisfied groan. He came to rest on his back beside Buffy, gazing up at the ceiling with a blissful expression on his face. Belatedly, he realized his audience. “’lo, luv,” he purred, stroking her bare thigh with one hand.

Drusilla stirred as well, looking up at Buffy over Spike’s body. With a sensual stretch, like a well-rested feline, she rose to her knees. “What grandmother used to do,” she commented casually, tracing Spike’s hard abs with her fingertips, “was make me watch while she played with my Angelus. Over and over again. For hours. But, oh, I couldn’t touch…” He hand gently encircled Spike’s cock, and he swelled to full erectness in response.

Buffy bit her lower lip and tried not to be too disappointed.

Dru quickly leaned over Spike and cupped Buffy’s chin in her palm, pulling the younger vampiress in for a searing kiss. Her tongue prodded Buffy’s lips, demanding entry, and plundering the sweetness she found within. Her hands found the blonde’s firm breasts and began kneading them.

At first, Buffy had been struck by an odd, uncomfortable sensation that she was kissing another woman. But Dru was relentless, and soon Buffy was moaning into Dru’s mouth and found herself unconsciously leaning in to her grandsire. Unsure hands returned Dru’s favor and began massaging soft, round breasts as well, flicking instinctively over the nipples. A surprising surge of pride and delight filled her when she heard Drusilla gasp in pleasure.

With a lazy smile, Dru finally pulled back, giving Spike’s now achingly hard erection a reassuring pat. “Grandmother was no fun,” she informed Buffy matter-of-factly. “Standing between a sire and his childe?” She tisked. “Unnatural…”

Spike nuzzled her thigh affectionately but yelped when she abruptly caught his wrists. Giving Buffy a wicked grin, she crawled above Spike’s head on the mattress, holding his wrists above his head better than any manacles.

“Happy birthday,” she joked to Buffy. “And if my silly childe forgets to attend to your pleasure in the future, mommy will always hold him down for you.”

“Oi,” Spike complained good-naturedly. “Shoulda known you women would gang up on me…”

“Shoulda,” Dru giggled in agreement.

Eyes dilated with desire, Buffy crawled up her sire’s nude body. Laid out just for her to take her pleasure from him in any way she wished. All hers…

A moment of genuine gratitude for her grandsire came over her and, not even thinking about her actions, she leaned in to give Dru a sweet kiss.

But then her attentions turned all too inevitably back to the matter of naked Spike. He had far too cocky a grin on his face right then, and she felt it her natural obligation to make him beg. She crawled back down to his thighs and vamped out. Grinning up at him under a blonde curtain of hair, she lowered one claw to the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh and sliced a narrow scratch.

He hissed in pain, and instantly her mouth was upon the cut, lapping up the blood and turning his pain to pleasure. All too soon, his skin rehealed itself, and she turned to give the same treatment to his other thigh.

He whimpered, from the feel of her mouth and the knowledge that his life energy flowed into her. But even more so at his rock-hard erection, only inches from her head, yet painfully ignored.

“Try that fleshy spot _right_ under his bellybutton next,” Dru advised, obviously enjoying his sexual agony.

He moaned just at the thought, and Buffy instantly took up Dru’s advice. His cock twitched as she licked his pale skin, and his hips writhed in vain beneath her. _Mmm…erotic zone_ , she made mental note for future lovemaking.

“Please…” the mewling little gasp finally escaped his lips.

Buffy and Dru exchanged a sly smile. “Think that was good enough?” Buffy asked with wide-eyed innocence.

Dru slowly shook her head. “Wasn’t _desperate_ enough,” she breathed into his ear.

A little cry of agony escaped his lips. “Please, luv,” he repeated. “Need to feel you so bad…”

Another exchanged look. “Better,” Dru conceded.

“You’re my goddess, Buffy,” he pleaded more earnestly. “ _Both_ of you are…”

Twin grins. “There’s a good boy,” Drusilla informed him, just as Buffy finally took mercy on him and swallowed his cock down to the hilt.

“Fuck, yes!” he cried out in pure bliss, hips thrusting up to force himself down his childe’s tight throat.

Buffy held him down in response. She wanted to be the one to control his pleasure. She pulled back until the tip of his head just barely brushed her lips and carefully parted his foreskin with her tongue. Circled him teasingly for a minute before flicking the pointed tip of her tongue right into the tiny opening.

“Oh, Buffy, so good,” he babbled inanely, head thrashing back and forth in Drusilla’s lap as she held him down. “So—Yes! Like that, pet!”

Buffy’s tongue looped around him repeatedly, tracing every vein and ridge down to the base before returning to his cock-head and starting all over again. She felt his balls tensing and cupped them in her palms, squeezing them while her mouth engulfed him completely, throat muscles giving way to his massive invasion.

“Fuck, fuck…yeah…” A blissful, almost relaxed expression crossed Spike’s face as he finally came, spurting his seed deep down her willing throat. Oh, this had to be what heaven was like: sire holding him down while his childe sucked him off…

Buffy swallowed hard before leaning in to give the tip of his cock a quick peck and a little affectionate pat. Still hard as steel. God, she loved vampire stamina.

Dru looked pointedly at her lips, and Buffy belatedly reached up to catch a drop of semen that had escaped her mouth. She wiped it up with her forefinger and offered the tantalizing droplets to her grandsire. Eagerly, Dru’s tongue swirled around the digit, lapping up the salty taste of her childe’s ecstasy.

Spike’s eyes languidly drifted open, and he smiled contentedly at the two women above him. Every muscle in his body – save the beast between his thighs, of course – felt perfectly relaxed right then. Like he’d just gotten an intense full body massage.

Buffy noticed he was awake again and purred against his throat like a hungry little kitten before moving to straddle his hips. Their eyes met for one instant before they each looked down to their sexes. Buffy slowly lowered herself, and they each watched, mesmerized, as his pulsing cock vanished into her slick channel inch by agonizing inch.

Dru purred, enjoying the erotic sight as well, when Buffy had finally fully descended on him, and their brown wiry hairs tangled together. “Ride him…” she whispered in eager anticipation.

Buffy didn’t need to be told twice. She began bouncing fiercely up and down his length, gasping in completion each time he pierced her folds, splitting her apart right down the seam until his cock-head pounded into her sweet spot with bruising intensity.

Drusilla watched, licking her lips, and Buffy’s golden hair flew around her head wildly, her breasts bouncing as she took him again and again. Every time he emerged from her depths, he was covered with slick juices, gleaming in the candlelight from her pleasure. Dru felt her own clit twinging in agony at how she wanted to be fucked that way.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” she whispered in Spike’s ear, still pinning him down so that he was helpless to touch the golden beauty thrashing above him erotically. Christ, he wasn’t going to last like this…

“Spike!” Buffy screamed out in wild abandon, head falling back as ground herself down onto him all the way.

Her vaginal muscles pounded him from all sides as she came, and it was enough to send him over the edge as well. He came this time, not with a roar, but with a whimper. And Drusilla stroked his cheek soothingly as he shot his life’s essence up into Buffy’s womb.

“We’re going to milk you dry,” Dru teased lightly. It was physically impossible, of course, what with his supernatural enhancements. But, oh, was it fun to try…

Dru finally released Spike’s limp wrists when she felt him go completely slack beneath her. Her own sex was throbbing horribly now, and she needed her release.

Predatory eyes settled on where Buffy was still coming down from her orgasm, hips rocking gently against Spike’s. “Pretty childe…” she cooed, leaning back and spreading her thighs.

Buffy opened her eyes and gulped when she realized what Dru wanted. She’d watched Willow and Cordelia countless times, but had never been tempted to participate. Now, however… Well, she didn’t have much of a choice. Plus, she owed Dru big time for her help double-teaming Spike.

“Hush, little doll,” Dru soothed her, guiding Buffy’s head so that it was between her thighs. “Mommy will show you what to do…” She pulled Buffy’s chin up so that their eyes met, and with a little push she was inside her grandchilde’s mind.

Buffy felt a momentary panic as her mind was taken over, images of carnal pleasure flashing behind her eyelids. But then Dru let her go, and she suddenly knew _exactly_ what to do. Her tongue flicked out lightly at first, teased Dru’s sensitive clit. She was rewarded with a heady moan, and nibbled playfully on the swollen nubbin, twisting lightly.

Drusilla whimpered when Buffy abandoned her clit and began running her tongue up and down Dru’s slick nether-lips. Dru’s knees tightened around the golden head between her thighs, and her head fell back in ecstasy.

Buffy’s tongue grew bolder and parted Dru’s folds, licking and sucking at each bit of tender flesh she found. Her grandsire’s juices surprisingly didn’t taste all that different from Spike’s, and Buffy savored the realization. She could still smell him inside Dru’s cunt, and her tongue pierced deep inside the vampiress, chasing her sire’s flavor.

It was at this time that Spike finally stirred from his bliss-induced coma. A low possessive growl escaped his lips, and his cock hardened impossibly further when he saw Buffy eating out Dru. Rising to his knees, he slunk up behind Buffy, desire-darkened eyes never leaving her firm ass as it waggled up in the air before him.

Buffy let out a surprised gasp against Dru’s clit when Spike abruptly caught her from behind and buried his cock in her cunt up to the hilt. One lustful vampire at either end, she began twisting at Dru’s clit in earnest, her hips thrusting wildly back into Spike’s.

Eyelids half-shut in ecstasy, Dru finally came with a powerful shriek, hands fisted roughly in Buffy’s hair. She pulled Buffy up for a quick kiss before leaving the youngster to enjoy getting fucked from behind by her childe.

Over Buffy’s sweat-soaked back, Spike and Dru’s eyes met for an instant before exchanging a wicked grin. _Show our little girl pleasure like nothing she’s ever imagined…_

Dru inched closer to him, spreading her thighs. His fingers dipped into her passage and came out slick with her cum. Continuing to pound hard into Buffy’s body, he brought his wet fingers up to her rear entrance. He met with resistance at first, but then her muscles gave way to him like he’d taught her.

Buffy moaned and cried out as he slipped ever more fingers inside of her, scissoring them outward so that she was fully prepared to take him. Her body shuddered in anticipation, and she rubbed her ass back against him, just _begging_ him to take her there. God, there was nothing like having her sire—Fuck!

Not breaking the rhythm of his strokes, Spike pushed the head of his cock through the tight rim of her ass right then. “That’s it, baby,” he babbled, squeezing his eyes shut to try to keep from coming immediately. “Open wide for me. Let me _all_ the way in. Show me how much—” She managed to relax her muscles then, and he buried himself all the way inside her ass with one stroke. “Fuck!—you want it…” he finished, beginning slow strokes, getting in as deep as he could.

“Tiny little girl looks like you could split her in two,” Dru commented in delight, opening the box of sex toys by the end of the bed.

Both her childer watched her curiously, still fucking each other as she began to pleasure herself. Truly, there was no more erotic sight in all the world…

She pulled a foot-long red dildo from the box and, perfectly conscious of her audience, thrust down upon it all the way. Flicked on the vibrating switch and began to ride it slowly.

Whimpers of need escaped Spike and Buffy’s lips. They may have been getting the greatest fuck of their unlives right then, but suddenly it wasn’t enough. They needed more.

“Such greedy childer,” she teased, pulling free of the dildo and finding Buffy’s abandoned cunt. She rammed it in hard in time with Spike’s thrusts into her ass, made the pretty little girl take in all twelve inches.

“Yes, yes!” Buffy moaned hoarsely at the double penetration, head thrown back feverishly as she tried to take them both even deeper inside her.

After several thrusts, however, Drusilla handed the dildo off to Spike, guiding his hand to continue fucking his childe in both holes. His own needy eyes followed her as she returned to the box.

She waggled one finger at him playfully before reaching in and pulling out an equally long flesh-colored strap-on. Spike groaned in anticipation and relief as she slicked it up with the juices from her vaginal passage, lubing it up for him.

She played with it a bit longer than was absolutely necessary, drawing out his torture. Finally satisfied that his agony had gone on long enough, she fastened the strap-on to her front. The long, curved sex toy rose before her, and she flicked gently on the tip, gasping when the hard tab on the underside of the device ground back into her clit so hard she saw sparks.

“Please, Dru,” he pleaded, waggling his ass enticingly in her air as he continued to double fuck Buffy.

Dru tisked him lightly and pulled yet another implement from her chest. Two balls, four inches in diameter and held together by a silken string. Grinning up at him, she pushed first one and then the other into her slick passage, clenching her muscles tight in order to hold them deep inside.

Spike halted his motions when Dru moved around behind him, and Buffy let out a little murmur of complaint. God, she _needed_ the friction of him pumping in and out of her in two ways at once, the feel of his balls slapping against her ass cheeks with each push…

“Just a second, kitten,” Spike soothed her.

Drusilla’s fingers teased open Spike’s ass. “Won’t take long,” she agreed approvingly. “My boy’s always _sooo_ eager to give in to me…” She lined the strap-on up with his asshole and thrust in with one deep, strong push. All twelve inches, _all_ the way in. Her clit felt like it was on fire with the pressure against it. Almost like it would burst. Savoring the heady pain/pleasure, Dru slowly began to pump in and out of her childe’s beautiful ass, riding him deep.

“Oh god, Dru! Fuck! Feels so good!” he murmured, thrusting into Buffy now, following Dru’s lead to build up a three-way rhythm between them. “Only you do this to me… God, both of you…”

Buffy gasped at the first combined push. She’d thought Spike was strong, but Spike and Dru’s combined power? Reaming her from behind? “Yes, Spike! Dru! Harder!”

The dildo in her vaginal passage grew rougher at that, and she moaned and writhed beneath them, feeling an orgasm like nothing she’d ever experienced build up wither her. Like each time pleasure exploded through her, another white light of ecstasy was just waiting to burst. Over and over and over again, she screeched her throat raw with ecstasy, whimpering each time she found her release only to feel the pressure building again.

The notion actually passed through her mind that she would dust from the ecstasy of this multiple-orgasm before the last wave finally pulled her down, and her pleasure-raw nerves blissfully collapsed into blackness…

Spike abandoned the dildo when he felt Buffy come, grabbing her hips roughly with both hands as he plowed ever harder into her ass. She was so tight each push took a terrific effort, but with Drusilla fucking him hard from behind, he had no difficulty slicing through Buffy’s internal resistance. And, christ, it was so good fucking and getting fucked all at once, sandwiched between two beautiful women that he loved.

Primal roar exploding from his lips, his balls clenched painfully tight before shooting his pleasure right through his pulsing cock, out his sensitive head, and into Buffy’s anal passage.

He slumped forward, still gasping in falling ecstasy as Dru continued to pound him hard. Cunt clenched tight and stretched around the pleasure balls, she ground the strap-on into him as rapidly as she could, feeling the shocks to her clit grow and grow until she was slumping forward in orgasm, too. Collapsing atop the two most beautiful childer in the world. Such a lucky mommy, she was…

Stillness for a few minutes before limbs reluctantly began to stir. Various phallic objects slipping from various orifices and sex toys all being tossed aside as the three vampires finally felt their lust for each other slaked and heavy sleep overcoming them.

Spike settled one vampiress on either side of him, wrapping them both in his embrace. Placing lazy kisses alternately on raven and golden locks, he settled into sleep. “Love you. Love you both so much,” he whispered against their hair. “So glad both my girls are finally all right…”

“Pretty family,” Dru murmured with a yawn. “Be like this forever and ever…”

And, as Buffy drifted off to sleep as well, she couldn’t help but admit that, yeah, this three-way thing wasn’t so bad after all…


	12. Chapter 12

With a longing sigh, Buffy watched the house from her place beside the tree in the front yard.

She’d woken up before Spike and Drusilla that evening. Not surprising, really. Drusilla was getting the first good, _healthy_ night’s sleep she’d gotten in months. And Spike… Well, give Spike’s herculean performance last night, Buffy wondered if he’d wake up again this _century_.

And the thought of last night couldn’t help but bring a little smile to her face. Her inner thighs were pleasantly sore this evening, and her walking was a bit stilted. She hadn’t been this well and thoroughly screwed since he’d first turned her. Every so often her demon was still breaking into a satisfied purr at how good she’d gotten it.

However, while the demon side of her was fully satisfied, the human part was more conflicted. She loved Spike. It was hard for her now to remember a time when she hadn’t. But Spike _and_ Dru? Angel’s final words to her flitted through the back of her mind, and she had to admit that she’d gotten more than she bargained for.

Not that she had anything particularly against Dru. If her elder had been just another member of the Willow-orgy group, Buffy might even have liked her. But _Buffy_ loved Spike, and she wanted him all to herself, and she _certainly_ didn’t want to share him with a vampiress who took precedence over her.

And, really, if Dru loved Spike they way she said she did, why would she want to share him with Buffy? Buffy knew that if _she’d_ had the good fortune to sire a vampire as beautiful as Spike, she’d keep him all to herself, satisfy his every need and want so that he never even had to _consider_ looking at another woman.

And her demon agreed with her on this part. _Take him all for yourself. The pleasure you got last night was only with half his attention. Just imagine if all of that was entirely for you…_

The very thought sent shivers down Buffy’s spine.

But, while one part of her human psyche dwelled on pleasure, the other was feeling very real pain. _“Love you both.”_ Now, what the fuck did that mean? He’d told her he loved her, but then he turned around and told Dru the same thing?

And she’d seen the way Spike and Drusilla had made love, like two mates perfectly suited to each other. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t really think it had ever been that way between the two of them. And then there were the little jokes, the subtle references, the _looks_ that conveyed more than Buffy’d ever communicated with Spike. There was an intimate knowledge there that made her feel very much like a third wheel. After all, Dru had a century-plus head start with Spike. Why would he ever want to bother look back at Buffy?

 _If he loves me, then that should mean that he loves me and only me. Not Dru or anyone else._ That was what her human half was insisting.

 _Only a fool would question a sire’s love when freely given_ , barked back the demon.

It was an internal battle that wasn’t getting any easier.

But Buffy’s attention was thankfully diverted when the upstairs lights flicked off, bringing her mind back to the matter at hand.

Willow, Cordelia, and Xander _had_ been up when she’d left that evening. Apparently last night’s parent-revenge plan had been postponed by hours of raucous sex. But the trio was ready for their daily dose of violence tonight. Tentative plans had even been made to drop by Willow and Cordelia’s houses. Make it a grand night of parenticide.

Willow had nagged and taunted Buffy, trying to get her to go with them. Pouty lips offering to let her go after her own mother and surrogate father, little sniffles when Willow bemoaned the fact that Dru had decreed that no one could kill Giles without Buffy’s permission.

Buffy had picked up that her former watcher and the new slayer had crashed the ritual last night, heard the pride in Spike’s voice that Dru had bagged her first slayer and the devotion in Dru’s voice when she told him it had all been for him. But Buffy really hadn’t had time to think about what had happened to Giles before then.

And she was very surprised to find herself glad that he was still alive. So she’d somehow managed to worm her way out of Willow’s hunt, but had naturally been drawn back here nonetheless.

Home.

Or was it?

She saw shadows move behind the drawn shades on the first floor. Two, at least. She guessed her mom and Giles were in the living room. And she did feel a little pang inside that she couldn’t even enter her own house to join them.

It seemed, perhaps, that they were moving out. Buffy watched, safely concealed in the shadows, as the door opened and her mother emerged with two boxes.

Buffy had noticed the van in front before now, of course, but she hadn’t made any connection to her house. Now, however… “Mommy?” She’d stepped forward and spoken before she even had time to think that she was deep in enemy territory.

“Buffy?” Joyce’s voice sounded hollow, frayed, but surprisingly not frightened. She squinted out into the darkness, trying to spot the night predator.

Buffy took a few steps forward and, in the nearly full-moon light, it was enough for Joyce to spot the shadowy figure. “What are you doing?” Buffy asked with a frown, eyes never leaving her mother, wanting to move closer even as she feared that Joyce would retaliate with some sort of defensive measure.

Joyce set the boxes in the back of the van. “We’re moving out,” she answered simply and without any pretense.

“Out? Out, where?” Buffy continued to move closer, drawn by her mother’s heartbeat like a moth to a flame.

Joyce sighed. “Rupert and I are leaving town, Buffy,” she answered. “There’s too much pain and loss here.”

“B-But you were just saying you were starting to really like Sunnydale,” Buffy protested, sounding more like a teenage girl who didn’t want to move away from her friends than a vampire.

“I did, but…” Joyce trailed off with a sigh, apparently not surprised by how little daughter seemed to have changed. “It’s not safe here. Not for me and Rupert.”

Yellow anger flashed in Buffy’s eyes at that. “No demon will dare touch you without _my_ permission,” she insisted vehemently.

Joyce managed a tired smile at that. “I’m sure they won’t,” she agreed. “But… Rupert and I have lost all our ties here. It’s not our home anymore.”

“And somewhere else is?” Buffy countered.

“No, but we’d like to try to make a new start somewhere else,” Joyce explained. “Begin again and hope to find happiness once more.”

“Without me?”

A maternal pang ached in Joyce’s chest at the fear and sadness in her daughter’s voice. “I-I thought that was how it worked, with vampires. Don’t you have a new family now?”

Buffy finally emerged into the light from the porch lamp and nodded.

“Then you don’t need me anymore,” Joyce said sadly.

“But I love you,” Buffy insisted, fighting at her own tears. And, god, since when did demons cry, anyway? “A-And I could always make you part of my new family,” she grasped upon the sudden idea. “I could…” She trailed off, knowing even then that she wouldn’t, not unless her mother asked her.

Joyce shook her head in apology. “I know that, despite what Rupert says, you’re still my Buffy deep down,” she informed her daughter. “And if being a demon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you, too. But it’s not for me. I want to live in my world and die in it.” Tears wet her cheeks, and she wiped at them in vain.

“You’re really leaving me, then?” Buffy’s voice sounded uncharacteristically frightened.

“It doesn’t mean that I love you any less.” Joyce held out her arms experimentally and was surprised at how fast her little girl ran into them, clinging to her and sobbing. “Just that our paths have grown apart,” she soothed, stroking Buffy’s hair. Strange to feel her daughter’s body so cool, but she didn’t dwell on it, savoring their good-bye.

Not even recognizing it as a vampiric gesture, Buffy nuzzled her mother’s throat affectionately. “I’ll miss you, mommy.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Joyce promised. “This…Spike? He’s taking good care of you, right?”

Buffy managed a little blush at that. “He’s _wonderful_ to me.”

Joyce smiled. “I hope you’ll be very happy together,” she announced.

Buffy couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of this situation. Girl-talking with her mom about the man who’d made her into a demon. “What about you and Giles? You going to be _happy_ , too?” She left just the right amount of innuendo on the word ‘happy’.

“We’ll see,” Joyce replied with a wistful smile that had Buffy hoping that Giles would see the light soon. She caught her mother in for another fierce hug.

“Joyce, what are you—?” a voice interrupted them, halting in shock mid-syllable at what appeared to be Buffy feeding from her mother’s throat. “No, not again,” Giles’ face turned ashen white, and he fumbled quickly for the cross at his belt.

Buffy and Joyce pulled apart at that moment, however, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief that Joyce was unharmed. “It’s all right, Rupert,” Joyce tried to assure him.

“I highly doubt that,” he countered, gulping at how close the vampiress’ fangs still were to Joyce’s throat. “Make one move to harm her,” he warned Buffy coldly, “and I shall personally send you to hell.” He brandished his cross, causing Buffy to flinch back.

“Rupert, please,” Joyce insisted. “She’s not here to hurt us.”

“Is that what she told you?” Giles demanded, offering Joyce his hand in hopes that he could put himself safely between her and the danger. “Didn’t I warn you that vampires are treacherous, deceitful, _inhuman_ —”

“Stop!” Joyce’s voice was stern and angry. “Rupert, it’s _Buffy_! I know you love her, so stop treating her like she’s some kind of wild beast.”

“But that’s exactly what _this_ ,” he gestured to Buffy, “is. Do not be fooled by the demon’s outward appearance.”

“I _am_ Buffy!” Buffy exclaimed with a roar then, face vamping out with rage. “I don’t care what those stupid wankers in the Watchers Council told you. They’ve got it all wrong. I’m _me_.” A frustrated exclamation escaped her lips. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? God, you’re even stuffier than you were when I was human…”

The random emotional outbursts and sullen teenage grumbling were almost enough to convince him. He wasn’t about to let some fledgling trick him away from decades of Council research, however. “I cannot leave you alone because you were once a slayer, and it is the responsibility of the Watchers Council to ensure that you are terminated.”

“Terminated?” Buffy repeated with a gasp of disbelief. “Great. First you people rob me of my life and force me to do a job that gets me killed. And, then, when I come back to life, you’re ready to drive the stake right through my heart.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “How many times do you have to ruin my life before you’re happy?”

“Rupert…” Joyce pleaded, slipping her arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Hasn’t this cost enough misery already?”

“So you suggest we just leave her be to kill countless innocents?” he countered, expression softening at Buffy’s pleas.

“So I get singled out over every other vampire. Great,” she said sarcastically. “And here I thought I was finally free of being ‘chosen’. You do know that Spike and Dru will just keep killing the slayers you send, right?”

The coldness to human death was new, but the cynical stubbornness? “What would you have me do?” he retorted, still all too aware that Joyce was in a precarious position to be taken as a hostage.

“‘Oh yes, I managed to dust Buffy prior to my heroic escape from Spike’s evil clutches. More tea and crumpets?’” she affected a horrible British accent.

Giles couldn’t help himself. Glasses were removed and quickly cleaned. “Promise me you’ll never do that again,” he half begged.

A wicked smile curved the corners of Buffy’s lips, but she just shook her head. “Take care of each other,” she offered in parting before turning her back on them and heading toward the now-dark house.

Giles stood there, stunned for a moment before Joyce tugged gently on his arm and led him into the van. “The rest…”

“The movers can handle it,” she assured him, fastening her seatbelt as he put the van in gear.

A sigh and one last look at where Buffy had vanished into the doorway of the now-vacant house, and he pulled out, heading for a new and different life. One where he need not necessarily follow the rules of the Watchers Council anymore…

Only a block from the Summers’ former home, he came to a stop only to see a familiar figure cross the street in front of him. For a second, the figure froze right in the middle of the street, tensing for attack before realizing it wasn’t coming. Nonchalantly, he continued his walk up Revello Drive.

 _Rupert, old man, you’re growing soft…_

Giles rolled down the window. “You may tell your childe that the Watchers Council believes her dead,” he said firmly and clearly into the dark of night.

The black-clad figure froze for one second. “Good to know,” he commented casually before continuing on his way.

Giles pulled away from the scene with a screech of tires. Best to leave this town before he lost his mind completely…

“Spike?” Joyce inquired curiously.

A reluctant nod.

“At least my daughter knows how to pick ‘em…” Joyce commented with a satisfied smile. She’d seen Spike’s eyes only for an instant when he stood in the beam of the headlights, but there was a humanity there she could admire. She liked to think herself a good judge of character, and if that was Buffy’s lover then she wasn’t worried. Not to mention the fact he’d been incredibly handsome. Perhaps Buffy would be all right after all…

“I figure,” Giles began nervously, “I’m just giving her the same odds every other vampire has. Is it so unfair not to want her to be at a severe disadvantage straight from the beginning?”

“Not at all,” Joyce assured him with a smile. “Not at all…”

* * *

“Mmm,” Buffy purred, rolling over to nuzzle her face into Spike’s chest as he crawled onto her old bed beside her. It was kind of odd having him here in her human room, like her past and present lives had become fussed in a confusing mishmash. But she wouldn’t give up the comfort of his strong body for anything in the world. “Where’s Dru?” she inquired curiously.

“Hunting,” he replied with a snort. “She said I was bein’ distracting so she went off on her lonesome.”

“Betcha were being distracting,” she accused with a grin.

He gave her an unashamed smirk. “’S what I do best, luv,” he purred against her.

“That you do,” she agreed with a sigh, stroking his cheek casually. She began nibbling at her lower lip nervously.

“Saw your mum and Rupert driving away,” he provided. “They on your mind?”

She groaned at that. “Are you disappointed that I let them go?” she asked nervously.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. “Why would I be disappointed?” he countered.

“Because Willow’s out there killing her parents right now, I bet. I mean, isn’t that what vampires are supposed to do? That’s what Angel said, at least…”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards. “One, who gives a damn what Red does? _You’re_ my childe. _You’re_ the one I love,” he counted off on his fingers. “Two, vampires aren’t s’posed to do anything. We do whatever we bloody well want. Make up your own damn rules. ‘S what I always do. And, three…” Narrowed blue eyes fixed on hers, entrancing her. “Angelus always was a wanker,” he completed with a grin.

She laughed at that and decided to take point number two to heart. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted right then, and she tasted it on his lips, kissing him slowly and deeply before pulling away again.

He purred and nuzzled her this time. “If it helps,” he whispered in her ear, “I let my mum live, too…”

She turned to look at him in surprise at that, and he gave her a sheepish shrug. “I felt…strangely human tonight,” she confessed softly, no longer feeling afraid to tell him these things.

He let out a snort at that. “Get used to it, pet,” he advised her. “Human emotions’ll sneak up on you at the oddest times. Part of the whole integration thing. Human and demon balancing themselves out inside you right now. Gets better over time, of course, but every so often…” He smiled. “Well, even Dru still has her human moments.”

Buffy sighed. “You love her very much.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed matter-of-factly. “And I love you very much, too.”

“But you love her more,” Buffy guessed.

He frowned at that. “No,” he corrected. “I love her for bein’ Dru. I love you for bein’ Buffy. Two completely different beasts, luv, comparin’ them makes about as much sense as comparin’ apples and oranges.”

“But how can…?” she trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

He stroked her hair back off her forehead slowly, guiding her gently back into the protective curve of his arms. “My advice is to forget all that ‘Gone With the Wind’ crap humans are fed about love. You know, they say we can’t feel it, when they’re the closed-minded ones. Bloody hypocritical.” His lips brushed the golden hairs on the crown of her head. “Someday you’ll know what it means to love two people at once, kitten,” he promised her, “and you’ll never be happier.”

She sighed and decided she really didn’t want to think about it right now. “It feels weird being back here,” she commented.

He nodded in agreement and then scowled. “‘New Kids on the Block’?” he read the poster incredulously. “And they say _demons_ are evil?”

“Like the Sex Pistols have _sooo_ much more staying power,” she jibbed him lightly.

He growled at that. “’d teach you a good and proper lesson,” he threatened before wincing, “if you and Dru hadn’t ridden me half to my second death last night…”

She giggled and pulled him up against her, cradling his head between her breasts. “I love you,” she whispered fondly. “So much…”

Fingernails painted black teased lightly at her bellybutton through the silky red fabric of her blouse. “Come with us, then,” he whispered.

“Come with you?” Buffy repeated, suddenly confused.

He propped himself up to look at her. “Me and Dru,” he began carefully, “we’re not exactly clan vamps. Like to do our fair share of roamin’, y’know? Test whether the grass really is greener on the other side…”

“You’re leaving town?” The notion was terrifying and exhilarating to her all at once.

“Got what we wanted,” he countered. “Dru’s as strong as ever, and picked up a lovely childe along the way.” His fingers twined with hers, and for a second she was stunned by the tender intimacy of the gesture. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently. “Don’t want to wear out our welcome on the Hellmouth.”

“Especially because sooner or later the Order of Aurelius will find out about your little coup and set things right again?” she guessed astutely.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he grumbled under his breath. “Not afraid of those wankers.”

“You’re just tired of the Hellmouth,” she repeated incredulously.

“Well, Red’s starting to seriously disturb me,” he conceded. “And ‘s sunny every single day. Never can get out much.”

“So, you want me to run off with you and Dru?” she repeated. “What about the others?”

“They’ve got their own unlives,” he shrugged.

She bit her lip and smiled slowly.

“Now, I _know_ you enjoyed yourself last night,” he purred seductively. “Could spend eternity like that…”

The grin broke out across her face. “Always wanted to get out of Sunnyhell,” she agreed.

He leaned in and kissed her passionately in response. “There’s my girl,” he whispered fondly before pulling back and taking a deep breath of relief. “Whew. Glad I don’t hafta tell Dru we’re leavin’ you behind.”

“She really wants me to come?” Buffy said, unsure.

“Predicted it, she did,” he agreed with an earnest nod. “So, s’pose I should’ve known you’d agree…”

“Because Dru’s never wrong?” she asked skeptically.

“Not it all the years I’ve known her. ‘Least, not when she’d havin’ one of her visions,” he insisted proudly.

“I thought she foresaw her own death,” Buffy countered.

He frowned. “Prob’ly just misread her,” he brushed it off. “Was talking about someone else. Maybe one of you all who got vamped. Or that slayer she killed, even.”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy sounded less than thoroughly convinced by Dru’s psychic veracity. _Rationalizing_ , her mind said what her lips wouldn’t. After all, Spike’s pride in his sire was actually kind of cute. She brushed a kiss across his lips. “When do we leave?” she wondered.

“Just as soon as you get done broodin’,” he retorted with an irascible smirk.

A gasp of outrage escaped Buffy’s lips as he got up. “I. Do. Not. Brood!” she exclaimed vehemently, before chasing after him with a laugh…

* * *

Buffy looked back through the painted black glass of the rear window and could just make out the vague outline of Willow’s form. Gloating, no doubt, that she was now in charge of the Hellmouth. But for how long was anyone’s guess.

She’d been surprised at how little fanfare their leaving had caused. Willow’s little family unit and Sayo and Julien had paid their respects, and Dalton had looked up from his books and grunted. For everyone else, it seemed like they’d always known this was a passing thing. The world could change from day to day even for immortals…

“Can I drive?” Buffy asked curiously from the back seat as Spike handed her the last of their bags. This one didn’t fit in the trunk and got stowed under the seat. Either Spike or Dru had had the brilliance at some point to yank down the full back seat into a makeshift bed.

Spike gave her a suspicious look. “You even know _how_ to drive?” he demanded.

“You can teach me,” she suggested.

A nervous gulp. “Later, luv,” he promised, shutting the back door and leaving her in the back seat.

“That means he’ll let you drive once we get settled somewhere else, and he can steal another car for you,” Drusilla provided, curling up on the back seat of the DeSoto and yawning contentedly. “So protective of his baby, our William is. I hope you’re prepared to share his love.”

Spike sat down in the driver’s seat and revved the engine to life. “You mocking my baby?” he half-teased Dru.

“Praising her,” she corrected instantly, looking falsely apologetic.

He snorted and pulled away. “Think some ponce put the town sign back up?” he inquired, lighting up a fag and taking in a lungful of smoke.

“Sign?” Buffy questioned, noticing Dru was already trying to fall asleep.

“I’ll wake up with a holler when he crashes through it,” Drusilla offered with a grumble, pulling the blanket up over her head.

“Never thought ‘d see the day when she objected to a li’l mindless destruction,” he countered in a light-hearted tone, already feeling his spirits lift as he started to put the miles between them and the Hellmouth. “Hold on, luv,” he advised Buffy, “we’re in for a bump.”

With maniacal glee, the car smashed through the road-sign and raced out of town.

Spike chuckled.

Drusilla groaned and went to sleep through the long ride.

And Buffy couldn’t help but watch, fascinated, as the world sped by them, eternity waiting on the horizon…

End Book One


End file.
